Uncertainty
by Still My Heart
Summary: Sequel to Your Fear Makes You Weak, this one takes place a year later. Full summary in the first chapter. Warning: character death.
1. Howlers and a new professor

A/N: Here it is, Chapter One of the sequel to "Your Fear Makes You Weak". Chapter 2 is written, I just have to type it. Reviews would be absolutely lovely :) And as always, J.K. Rowling owns everything but the plot and dear Professor Weed.

Summary: It's a year after Hermione and Snape succeeded in bringing down Voldemort. Hermione is still Professor Snape's assistant and enjoying the job, along with the new year that promises no ill-will, as Voldemort is officially gone. But Hermione should know that no year at Hogwarts is ever normal. Faced with a new professor whose intentions seem anything but noble, burgeoning powers beyond her control, strained relations with Ron, and a new view of her boss, Hermione's school year is going to anything **but** normal.

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Hermione Granger scowled down at the charred bits of paper on her desk and set her quill down.  
Another Howler. She had been Professor Snape's assistant for nearly a year now, and she still continued to receive Howlers from parents, and all of them Slytherins. They had abated slightly over the summer, but now that term was about ready to begin, they were arriving again.  
Sighing, Hermione swept the remains of the Howler into the wastebasket, where they fluttered down atop the ruins of the other two she had already received that morning, and stood, seizing the lesson plans she had been proofing for Snape and opening the door that led into the study of Snape's quarters.  
"Another Howler, Miss Granger?" Snape asked idly from where he sat at the table, reviewing his notes.  
"What else?" she replied sourly as she placed the stack of parchment that was in her hand on the table and picked up another. She winced slightly at the pressure on the tender skin of her fingertips and Snape looked up at her.  
"Something wrong, Miss Granger?"  
"That last one burned me a little bit."  
"Perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey, then," Snape suggested, turning back to his notes.  
"It's not that bad."  
"Then perhaps you should sit down." Snape moved a stack of parchment over, clearing a space for Hermione, who sat down.  
Over the past year, the professor and his assistant had developed a working relationship, one that served them both well.  
They could now anticipate each other's actions in the classroom and were almost to the point of holding entire conversations without speaking a single word, though all of this was just inside the classroom. Outside of it, especially in their private spaces, there was almost no interaction, except for reminders to Hermione about helping prepare potion ingredients, but the arrangement suited them both well and neither had room to complain.  
They were silent for a while, the only sound in the room the scratching of their quills as they crossed out and added things to their respective bits of parchment. It wasn't until Hermione realized that she was the only one working that she looked up at Snape. He was staring into space, the tip of his quill poised above his parchment. He had taken to doing this at random intervals over the past week and Hermione knew he was thinking the same thing she was, about how this year would be without the looming threat of Voldemort, would it be like last year?  
Hermione allowed the professor a moment before speaking.  
"Professor?" she said softly. Snape blinked and shifted his dark eyes to her.  
"Yes?"  
"I'm sorry, you were just... lost again."  
Snape's eyes flickered but he nodded at her and went back to his game. Sighing inwardly, Hermione did the same.

The day before term was to start, Hermione, Ron, and Harry went down to Hogsmeade for one last really free day together.  
"Hermione, you look as worried as you did when Voldemort was still alive," Ron said with a slightly pained expression as they sat inside the Three Broomsticks.  
"You're still getting Howlers, aren't you," Harry said with a bit more tact.  
"Yeah. I just wish I knew why!"  
"Oh, c'mon, Hermione, you know why." Harry stared at her. "You're more intelligent than most people, you're the assistant to the best Potions Master in Great Britain at the best magic school in the world, plus you killed Voldemort."  
"With Snape's help," Hermione reminded him feebly, staring into the honey colored depths of her Butterbeer.  
"They don't want to like you," Harry continued, "so they're going to hate you."  
"I just wish they'd do it in the privacy of their own homes rather than leave scorch marks on my desk and singeing my quills and hair and burning my fingers," Hermione grumbled, swirling the contents of her glass. Ron's arm snaked around her waist and he kissed her cheek.  
"It'll get better," he said, trying to sound reassuring, but Hermione just found it irritating. She said nothing though and the conversation moved on.

At the Welcoming Feast the following night, Professor Dumbledore introduced the new Herbology teacher, Professor Weed, as Neville had gone away for some more extensive study.  
Hermione stared at the man. He was rather nondescript, with brown hair and eyes, not too much younger than Snape, if appearances meant anything. Professor Weed raised his eyes at the lukewarm applause and looked around the Hall, his eyes finally resting on Hermione. A shiver ran down her spine, unexplained but nevertheless unsettling. She diverted her eyes and received another shock. Professor Snape, in his seat beside her, was staring, not condescendingly around at all the students as was customary, but down at his plate. Even stranger was the look on his face: confused, as though he was trying to remember something. Hermione was on the verge of asking him if he was okay when Ron elbowed her.  
"What?" she snapped, annoyed.  
"Aren't you gonna eat?" he asked, oblivious to her mood.  
"Yeah," she said absently and began spooning food onto her plate. She stole another glance at Snape, who had adopted his usual glare and looked perfectly normal.  
Hermione sighed and returned to her dinner.

Term began and Hermione found herself pleasantly busy setting out potion ingredients and testing the testable potions with Snape.  
A few weeks into term, Hermione was using Snape's extensive library to refresh her memory on some of the lesser known potions and ingredients. Loaded down with books she backed into her room, already reading one of the large volumes. She glanced up quickly and let out a surprised cry, dropping her books and reaching for her wand.  
"How did you get in here?" she demanded.  
"The door was open," Professor Weed answered. "I'm sorry for startling you."  
Hermione lowered her wand, her senses returning to her.  
"Why are you here?"  
"I was looking for Professor Snape, he wasn't in the classroom. I have some herbs he requested. Seeing as how you're his assistant, I trust I can give them to you."  
"Of course." Hermione stepped forward and took the bag from him. "I'll see that he gets these."  
When the professor didn't leave, Hermione looked at uneasily.  
"Is there anything else, Professor?"  
He continued to stare at her with such intensity that she reached in her pocket for her wand again.  
"You killed the Dark Lord," he finally said, his voice adapting an inquisitive quality.  
"I, er... well, yes, Professor Snape and I-"  
"You're a very brave girl."  
"It was Professor Snape's idea to do what we did," Hermione said, blushing slightly. "I never would've thought of it."  
"Still." Weed stared at her for another moment, then headed for the door. "It was nice talking to you," he said as he left.  
"You, too," Hermione said perfunctorily, then hurried over and closed the door, changing the password as an extra precaution.  
Shaking her head, Hermione went over and picked up the books she had dropped and set them on her desk. The bag of the herbs caught her eye and she picked it up, studying it closely. Then she frowned. Professor Snape didn't need these herbs, he was fully stocked, she had checked them just this morning. Her frown deepened as the bell rang, signaling the end of her break. Now she was annoyed; that man had taken up the rest of her break. Silently fuming she walked out of her room and entered the classroom through the student entrance. Professor Snape was at his desk, putting finishing touches on his grades, and Hermione suddenly suspected he had been there all along.  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
"Did you request any herbs from Professor Weed, sir?"  
"Not recently, why?" he replied, not looking up.  
"He just... he just brought some by, said you had asked for them." Hermione refrained from adding that he had been in her room; she didn't know how Snape would react.  
"Well, I didn't."  
"Are you sure? Maybe you forgot."  
Snape stopped writing and looked up at Hermione, his eyes glittering.  
"Of course you didn't forget," she mumbled as the bell rang. "Sorry, sir."  
Hermione walked to the classroom door and opened it, holding it as the students filed in.  
"Settle down," Snape said unnecessarily to the group of second years. Most of the younger students cowed in his presence so as not to give him any reason to glare at them more so than usual.  
"Pay careful attention to detail today," Snape continued, sounding almost bored. "This will be difficult for some of you, I'm sure, which means you'll have to work extra hard. Professor Granger will be grading this lesson, and therefore it would be prudent of you to produce a potion that will neither injure nor kill Professor Granger." Snape flicked his wand and instructions appeared on the board; another flick and the supply cabinet opened.  
"Begin." Snape raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who had not moved from her spot by the door, and imperiously beckoned her forward.  
"Professor-" Hermione began. Snape cut her off.  
"I trust you can handle second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, Miss Granger?"  
"Well, yes, but- of course, Professor."  
"Very well then. I trust that you can handle them for an hour. I have things that need to be taken care of."  
Hermione watched Professor Snape gather his papers and disappear into his office. Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, feeling her frustration rise.  
"Try it, Mr. Wood, and you'll think you were born in detention," Hermione said, her back still to the class. She turned and looked at the Ravenclaw boy who was slowly sinking back into his seat.  
"Ten points from Ravenclaw for trying to sabotage Miss Turner's potion," Hermione said evenly.  
"Snape wouldn't have noticed," the second year mumbled. Hermione placed her hands on the table and leaned toward the boy.  
"_Professor _Snape would've taken fifty points instead of ten, Mr. Wood. Keep in mind, young man, that _I_ am grading this assignment. If there is anything wrong with Miss Turner's sample, even if by her own fault, it comes off _your_ grade. Do I make myself clear?"  
"Professor Snape-"  
"_I am not Professor Snape_. Now, do I make myself clear?" Hermione's voice lowered dangerously and the boy dropped his eyes.  
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled. Hermione straightened up and stalked over to Snape's desk, dropping into his chair and closing her eyes briefly. This day had taken a decidedly odd turn and Hermione was feeling it.  
She opened her eyes and saw a name flashing at her. Abigail Horne. Hermione stood to go help the girl and a thought occurred to her. How had she known what Wood was doing without even looking at him?


	2. Herbs and bourbon

A/N: Chapter Two in all its glory. I think this one is better than Chapter 1, reviews would be delightful *big grin* As always, everything is J.K. Rowling's except the plot and good ole' Professor Weed.

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Hermione stared at the corked vial in her right hand, comparing it to Snape's sample in her left one. The color was close enough and she uncorked the student sample and placed a few drops onto the test object. It shrank successfully and she was prepared to give full marks, less five for the slightly shriveled appearance, when it suddenly burst into flame and disintegrated before her eyes. Sighing, Hermione dropped the score to half credit, since the student _had_ successfully shrunk the object, and set the potion to the side with the other discards, where it now sat among potions whose colors ranged from a deep, angry red to a mustardy yellow. Snape liked to keep the good potions for his stores, and she had a whopping five for him. Out of 30. Sighing again, she recorded the final grade and rubbed her eyes, standing and gathering the five good samples and Snape's vial and slipping them into the pocket of her robes. She destroyed the bad samples with a flick of her wand and picked up Snape's grade book.  
Unbidden, the memory of the afternoon class rose in her mind as she walked out of her room and through Snape's to his office. She still wondered how she had known what the child was doing. She thought intuition, but it was much more than that.  
Frowning slightly, Hermione placed the student vials in a small box on the corner of Snape's desk and the grade book in the top drawer.  
She was halfway back to her room when she stopped suddenly, realizing how dark it was.  
She glanced up at the large grandfather clock's softly illuminated face and started when she saw it was past midnight.  
Surely it wasn't... but the sound of Snape's even breathing as he slept told her it was, and feeling guilty and embarrassed, she quickly went back into her own room.  
Silently berating herself, Hermione extinguished all the candles in the room except for the one beside her bed and dressed for bed. She hoped Snape wouldn't discover she'd been in his room after he'd gone to bed, as he had made it expressly clear that anything she had to do in his room or office be done before he went to bed.  
She blew out the lamp on her bedside table and crawled into bed, her mind still trying to wrap itself around the afternoon's events.

"These grades are abysmal," Snape said scathingly the following afternoon. "I do hope that today's potion will be made with a might more care. Do try not to set anything of Professor Granger's on fire, as she will again be grading your potions tonight. Begin."  
Again, Snape beckoned Hermione forward and she obeyed, helping students along the way.  
"Yes, sir?"  
"I couldn't help but notice that you deposited the good potions and grade book in my office after ten last night, as that was the last time I was in there, but before seven this morning."  
Hermione felt her cheeks burn, but remained silent.  
"This can only mean that you entered my chambers after I had gone to sleep. Am I correct?"  
"Yes, sir, and I'm sorry. I lost track of time and my mind was elsewhere and I didn't realize how late it was until I was nearly to my room. I'm sorry."  
"Seeing as how this is your first offense in the year you've worked for me, I'll accept your apology." Snape surveyed her through his curtain of greasy hair. "But I will ask that you keep your eye on the clock and your mind on your work for now on."  
"Yes, sir."  
"I have an errand for you." Snape tore off a scrap of parchment and wrote some things on it. "Go to Professor Weed and see if he has any of these available for me."  
Hermione paused only a minute and then took the list and nodded.  
"Okay."  
She left the classroom and headed up through the castle to Weed's office. She tentatively knocked on the door and pushed it open. Weed was at his desk, grading some papers.  
"Er, Professor?"  
Weed looked up and Hermione involuntarily took a step back.  
"Professor Snape wanted these," she said quietly. Weed stood and swept wordlessly past her, snatching the list from her hand. Feeling confused, Hermione followed him.  
"Um, sir?" Hermione said, jogging to catch up with Weed. He was acting so different from the day he had appeared in her room that she forgot about being nervous and now was just curious.  
"Sir, is anything wrong?" she asked, following Professor Weed into Greenhouse 2. He turned toward her so fast and suddenly that she gasped and stumbled back into a table. A crash greeted her ears but she didn't move to do anything about it.  
"Miss Granger, have you never had a bad day?" he said tensely, grabbing her arm and staring intently at her. "Is there anything else you need besides these?"  
Hermione shook her head, trying to swallow the growing lump in her throat.  
"Then if you could wait outside, I would really appreciate it." He released her arm and stalked over to the other end of the greenhouse. Trembling slightly despite herself, Hermione stepped around the table and repaired the broken flowerpot, then left the greenhouse, rubbing her arm and hating the tears in her eyes.  
"Stop it," she whispered sharply to herself, angrily swiping at her cheeks. "Just stop."  
"Hermione?"  
She turned and saw Ron trouncing down the hill towards her.  
"You alright?" he asked, squinting at her as he approached her.  
"Yeah, fine."  
"What're you doing down here?" Ron asked, kicking at the grass and peering into the nearby woods.  
"Errand for Snape," Hermione replied, following Ron's line of vision and wondering what he was looking for.  
"Ah."  
"What about you?" Hermione saw what Ron was looking for as a thestral ambled into view, munching on something very much dead. She grimaced and turned back to Ron.  
"I saw you standing down here."  
Hermione grinned, surprising herself. "You know what I mean."  
"No class. Wandering aimlessly around the grounds. Saw you." He smiled. "That better?"  
"Yeah."  
"You sure you're okay?" Ron touched her cheek. "You look a bit peaky."  
"I'm fine, Ron. Really." She placed her hand on his and held it there for a moment. "I'm sorry, Ron, for not coming to see you. I've just been busy. I was up 'til midnight last night, grading potions, and-"  
"Calm down, love. You're apologizing way too much. I understand, believe it or not, I know you've been busy. Hell, _I've_ been busy. It's okay."  
Hermione smiled.  
"Here you are, Professor."  
Ron dropped his hand and Hermione looked over at Professor Weed. He handed her the bag of plants and herbs that Snape requested.  
"And I'm sorry." He cast a glance at Ron, then tilted his head to Hermione and walked back up to the castle.  
"What's he sorry about?" Ron asked, looking slightly confused.  
"Nothing important," Hermione said, pocketing the herbs and taking Ron's hand. They walked up to the castle slowly.  
"You wanna come to my room tonight?" Hermione asked slyly as they climbed the front steps. Ron looked at her, eyes wide, a grin on his face.  
"Tonight? _Your_ room? But you're right next to-"  
"That's what Silencing Charms are for."  
"I doubt that's what the bloke who thought that charm up had in mind," Ron said, grinning down at Hermione.  
"But it works." Hermione whispered the password to her room in Ron's ear, then kissed him and entered the castle, feeling abundantly better than before.

Ron slipped out the next morning just before the first class, leaving Hermione asleep with a kiss on the cheek.  
She was abruptly awakened two hours later as the connecting door between her room and Snape's burst open and a very livid Professor Snape stepped into her room, positively radiating anger.  
"Miss Granger!" he bellowed. "_What_ is the meaning of this?"  
"Of what, sir?" Hermione responded thickly.  
"Your abject laziness, you thickheaded girl. Exhausting as though your night surely was, that is no reason to miss the first two classes of the day!"  
This snapped Hermione completely awake and she sat up quickly, clutching the sheets to her bare chest.  
"Miss?" she said fearfully. "I missed the first two-"  
"Yes, you insolent child!" Snape glowered at Hermione. "_Get_ your clothes on and _get_ into my office, and do something about that horrible smell!"  
Snape left, slamming the door behind him, making Hermione wince. She thought about his last comment.  
"Smell...?" Hermione breathed deeply and immediately a flush burned her cheeks. The room smelled like, well, sex.  
Feeling as though her face was going to catch fire, she snatched up her wand and performed an air freshening charm. The room slowly lost the scent and Hermione, still blushing fiercely, gathered her clothes and bathed quickly, throwing on her clothes and grabbing her wand and robes as she left the room.  
She walked through Snape's chambers and entered his office.  
"Professor, I am so sorry-"  
"Save it, Miss Granger." Snape looked at her, his displeasure with her so evident that she felt he was going to hit her.  
"I do not care what you do in your private time. But when it interferes with _my_ time, then I care. What you did last night I don't care about, nor do I wish I knew. It is your insubordination after the fact that I care about."  
Snape stared at her for a moment, then his obsidian eyes fell to her right upper arm and his lip curled as he sneered at her.  
"Weasley like it rough?"  
Hermione glanced at her arm and saw the large bruise from where Professor Weed had grabbed her the day before peeking from under the sleeve of her shirt. Anger boiled in Hermione's stomach.  
"That is the most disgusting, perverse thing you have ever said," Hermione spat, matching Snape's glare. "Neither your status as a professor, nor your standing as an adult, which has become questionable, gives you _any_ right to ask me or make insinuations about _my_ private life. And you will do well to remember that, _sir_."  
Turning on her heel, Hermione wrenched open the office door and stalked through the classroom, pulling on her robes as she went. Rarely did she ever get so angry that her hands shook, so that she had to pause to yank the classroom door open.  
She stormed through the school, in such a rage that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and as a result, ran smack into Harry as she turned a corner.  
He grabbed her to keep her from falling, laughing as he did.  
"Hey, Hermione- whoa, hey, what's the matter?" he asked as he really looked at her, the humor gone from his voice.  
"Nothing," she snapped.  
"You're crying, love," he said knowingly.  
"I'm- what?" Hermione touched her cheek and found that she was, indeed, crying.  
"Who's pissed you off?"  
"That horrible, slimy, disgusting git Snape!" Hermione said vehemently. Harry looked surprised, but recovered quickly.  
"C'mon," he said, turning and steering her to his office.  
He sat her down in a chair and handed her a tissue as he bustled about, preparing tea.  
"So what happened?" he asked, setting a cup in front of her and sitting behind his desk.  
"Ron... stayed with me last night and I overslept this morning and Snape made some comment about us - Ron and me - that was completely uncalled for and rude." Hermione reached for her tea but thought better of it as her hands were still shaking.  
"Okay, first, calm down. You're wound tighter than Oliver Wood in a rainstorm during a Quidditch match."  
Hermione smiled slightly at this.  
"Good. Second of all, you need to talk to Snape. Not now," he added at Hermione's indignant look. "Just soon."  
"Why?" Hermione asked, folding her arms rather stubbornly across her chest.  
"Because from what I can tell, you two have a pretty good relationship. I'd hate for you to be fired just because you're stubborn and he's a git."  
Hermione bit her lip; she hadn't considered that Snape might fire her. He had grounds to do it.  
"I don't think he'll fire you," Harry said, correctly reading the look on Hermione's face. "But a tense relationship between a Potions Master and his assistant can't be good."  
Hermione grudgingly realized Harry was right and sighed.  
"Since when were you so smart?" she asked, pretending to be annoyed.  
"Guess you rubbed off on me." Harry grinned and Hermione finally smiled.

Hermione didn't return to the dungeons until after dinner, from which Snape had been suspiciously absent.  
Hermione headed to her room afterward and removed her robes and shoes, picking up a book to return to Snape's shelves. She opened the door and walked to a bookshelf on the opposite wall. She slid the large volume into its place and scanned the titles, looking for another.  
"Miss Granger."  
"I don't believe I have anything to say to you, Professor Snape."  
"I, on the other hand, have something to say to you."  
Hermione turned and saw the professor silhouetted in his office doorway.  
"Apologizing is not an easy thing for me, Miss Granger, because I am usually never sorry about anything I say or do. But today, I am. And so I apologize, Miss Granger, for hurting and offending you. My behavior regarding your personal life was inexcusable."  
Hermione regarded the professor carefully.  
"Alright. I can accept that. And I apologize for losing my temper."  
"You had every right to be upset." Snape stepped into the room. "Have a seat, Miss Granger," he said, gesturing towards the couch in front of Hermione.  
After a moment's hesitation, Hermione did so, folding one leg beneath her as she did.  
Snape entered her sight a minute later, extending a small glass of amber liquid to her. She eyed it warily.  
"I assume you have had alcohol by this point in your life?" Snape asked, sounding exasperated but also amused.  
"I- yes," Hermione said, accepting the glass. Snape set a large bottle containing more of the amber liquid on the coffee table and sat on the other end of the couch, his own glass in his hand.  
Hermione inconspicuously sniffed the drink as she took a sip. Bourbon. She choked on the first swallow and began to cough.  
"When I said alcohol, I meant more than a stolen sip of Daddy's champagne," Snape said, recoiling a bit. Hermione glared at him.  
"Can you just get me some ice?"  
Snape arched an eyebrow but did as she asked, disappearing into his office and returning a moment later with not only a glass of ice cubes but with one of water as well.  
Hermione took a couple of sips of water, then poured her drink over the ice and took another sip.  
"Better."  
Snape regarded her curiously over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his own drink.  
"Professor, I hardly would've imagined you for drinking, let alone with a former student."  
"Miss Granger, I suppose you're something of a colleague now."  
"Glorified drinking buddy."  
Hermione swore she saw a hint of a smile on the gloomy professor's lips and smiled.  
"I amuse you?" she asked.  
"On occasion," Snape admitted.  
"So that _was_ a smile I saw."  
"I don't smile, Miss Granger. I've found it conveys the wrong message about me."  
Hermione raised her glass to her lips. "And what message would that be?"  
"That I'm... nice."  
"Perish the thought," Hermione said, laughing.  
"Quite." Snape's eyes gleamed as he raised his glass to Hermione. She clinked hers to his and they drank.


	3. And the earth moved

A/N: Finally. Sorry this took so long. School got in the way, and then my computer puked. But I've got a new computer now, I've graduated high school, and it's summer... so yeah. I have Chapters 4 and 5 written, I've just got to type them up. Reviews are always welcome! :)  
  
"You okay?" Ron asked Hermione the next morning at breakfast.  
  
"Yeah. I ate too fast," Hermione murmured, glad that she had actually already eaten. What it really was was she had drunk too much the night before. It'd been too long since she'd had any real alcohol, and the bourbon wasn't agreeing with her stomach, which roiled unpleasantly, making her grimace. She touched Ron's hand and stood up from the staff table, heading back down to the dungeons.  
  
Snape stared at her intently as he handed her the list of potion ingredients to set up.  
  
"Are you feeling alright, Miss Granger?" he asked, sounding, to Hermione, slightly suspicious.  
  
Hermione nodded and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait a minute," Snape said, standing and walked over to the small cabinet on the wall. He produced a large jar containing a green liquid and uncapped it, pulling a glass to him.  
  
"How tall are you, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Five foot four," she said cautiously.  
  
"And your weight?"  
  
"127," she replied after a moment's hesitation.  
  
Snape carefully poured some of the green liquid into the glass, eyed it shrewdly, then handed it to Hermione.  
  
"Drink that."  
  
Hermione looked at it, then at Snape. His eyebrow twitched.  
  
"It'll help with your nauseousness," he added, with a bite of impatience. Hermione downed the potion and scowled.  
  
"I never said it tasted good," Snape said, looking amused as he took the glass from Hermione, who glared at him.  
  
"Thanks." She turned and left the room, stopping in front of the large supply cupboard and opening it. Methodically she removed each ingredient and separated the contents into smaller jars, which she placed on each table. The more volatile ingredients she left on the counter and replaced the other ingredient jars in the cupboard, in the front, to replace any left over after class.  
  
"Miss Granger," Snape called from his office. Hermione shut the cabinet doors and walked into the office.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I'd like you to make a sample Polyjuice Potion. To show the sixth and seventh years."  
  
"They're going to make it?" Hermione asked, startled.  
  
"Of course not. If we showed them how to make it, think of what would happen."  
  
Hermione bit her lip. She already knew what could happen.  
  
"No, I just wanted to show them, as they say, 'a neat trick'."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Whose hair do I use?"  
  
"Your own. I'm going to transform into you."  
  
Hermione stared. "For an hour, sir?" She didn't ask the real question, which was "Why?"  
  
"I don't see why not. Besides, the thought of instilling fear in a class could have its benefits."  
  
"Fear?" Hermione echoed.  
  
"I believe that my voice coming from your mouth might unsettle the students."  
  
Hermione stifled a snort with difficulty. "Sir, personally, I find it a little amusing."  
  
Snape scowled. "Well, your voice coming from my mouth would call for more amusement than I care to witness."  
  
Hermione suppressed a giggle at the image. "Perhaps another teacher?"  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow. "I daresay Minerva McGonagall would not enjoy your taking of her hair, nor will she relish the idea of myself assuming her form."  
  
"I meant Harry or Ron or Lavender."  
  
Snape's lip twitched at Ron's name, which Hermione thought strange, but chose not to press.  
  
"You think Potter would agree?"  
  
"It's not a problem. He'd find it amusing."  
  
"Very well then."  
  
"Where will I make it? It needs a month," Hermione reminded Snape.  
  
"Over there." Snape pointed to the corner of the counter that ran the length of the wall, where a small cauldron hung over a naked burner.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Alright. I'll get started on it this weekend."  
  
Snape nodded as well and sat back in his chair, surveying Hermione carefully.  
  
"If you don't mind my asking, Miss Granger," he said after a moment, "how _did_ you acquire that bruise?"  
  
Hermione hesitated, unsure of whether or not she should tell him, and then unsure of whether or not she should lie.  
  
"You don't have to say, Miss Granger, although if someone's... hurting you- "  
  
"No one's hurting me, Professor," Hermione interrupted, shaking her head. "I just... Professor Weed and I had an argument the other day."  
  
"And he felt the need to grab your arm so tight it bruised?" Snape asked skeptically, though his eyes held a very different emotion, one Hermione couldn't place.  
  
"It's really nothing, sir."  
  
"I don't feel that any argument between yourself and Professor Weed would warrant such abuse."  
  
"I wouldn't call it 'abuse'," Hermione said, startled. Snape eyed her for a moment.  
  
"I suppose abuse is the wrong word. But you understand my meaning."  
  
Hermione nodded as the bell rang for students to head to their classes.  
  
By the end of the day, Hermione had other things to worry about. An unfortunate accident in one of the first year classes resulted in Hermione's robes catching fire, the flames of which would not go out until Snape poured another potion on them.  
  
He subtracted twenty points from the girl's house, Gryffindor, and gave her a night's detention for her carelessness. The young girl was close to tears as Snape swept away and Hermione told her it was alright and helped clean up the mess. By the end of the class, she had awarded the girl five points for correctly answering a question. Snape had glared at her for the rest of the class, but she ignored him until the students had left.  
  
"I don't recall asking you to undermine my authority," Snape said, sounding annoyed.  
  
"I didn't undermine anything," Hermione replied calmly as she collected the ingredient jars from the tables. "She answered the question correctly and I awarded her points."  
  
"You only asked the question so you _could_ award her points."  
  
"And so what if I did?"  
  
"Miss Granger, this is not good cop-bad cop."  
  
Hermione turned from the supply cabinet to look at him, surprised he knew the phrase.  
  
"I don't need you," he continued, "going behind me and alleviating my punishments because you think they're too harsh."  
  
"Twenty points and a detention did seem rather excessive though, sir."  
  
"She set your _robes_ on _fire_, Miss Granger!" Snape said incredulously. "Or did you fail to notice that part?"  
  
"Of course I noticed it," Hermione replied waspishly. "But it was an accident."  
  
"Accidents in potions labs get good wizards killed, Miss Granger," Snape said evenly, staring at Hermione, who stared silently back.  
  
The door to the classroom opened and Hermione turned to see Professor Weed stride into the room, a potted plant in his hands. He glanced at Hermione as he approached Snape's desk.  
  
"Here's the plant you wanted. I do hope it works."  
  
Snape took the plant and stood, looking at Hermione.  
  
"If you would excuse us, Miss Granger. And please put this in my office," he added, handing Hermione the plant. Hermione glanced nervously at Professor Weed and did as she was told, depositing the stunted looking plant on Snape's desk, then walking to her room to change her robes.  
  
She left her room, heading for the Great Hall for dinner. Ron and Harry were already there and welcomed her happily. She told them about the girl who had set her robes on fire, and they laughed, finding it as amusing as she had.  
  
Professors Snape and Weed entered the hall about fifteen minutes later, both looking disgruntled.  
  
"You didn't have to do that," Hermione said carefully later that night as Snape graded some essays.  
  
"Of course I did, that ingredient is never used-"  
  
"Not that," Hermione said about the large red 'X' Snape had scratched onto the parchment. "I meant you didn't have to talk to Professor Weed."  
  
Snape grunted and handed the essay to Hermione so she could record the grade.  
  
"You're my assistant and I don't appreciate other professors manhandling you."  
  
Hermione didn't quite know what to say to this, and so she said nothing, though her mind swam at the thought that Snape cared about her.  
  
She recorded the final grade just past ten and Snape stood and bid her good night. At breakfast the next morning, Hermione noticed Professor Weed glaring at her every time she looked in that direction. It unsettled her so much that she left earlier than usual and went back to dungeons.  
  
"What exactly did you say to Professor Weed?" Hermione asked as she entered Snape's office.  
  
"I told him to never touch you again," Snape murmured distractedly, peering at a bit of parchment. "Why?"  
  
"He's been glaring at me all morning," Hermione answered, grabbing the sample potions for the day's lessons from the store cabinet in the office.  
  
"Yes, well, a carefully administered potion can fix that," Snape muttered darkly.  
  
"You don't need to poison the man," Hermione said testily.  
  
"Just a thought."  
  
Hermione shook her head and left the office, setting the sample potions on Snape's desk.  
  
The first class had only barely begun and Hermione was helping a student when she felt the floor tremble ever so slightly beneath her feet. She ignored it at first, but when it happened again, strong enough to rattle the jars on the tables, she looked up at Snape. He nodded to confirm that he had felt it, too, and straightened up at his desk. The students had noticed the tremor as well and the tension level rose slightly in the room.  
  
"Keep working," Snape called out as Hermione glanced at the ingredient cabinet. He nodded again and Hermione closed and latched the doors. As she turned, the floor shook more violently and Hermione realized this was an earthquake. Cries were heard as glass broke and Snape called for the students to get under their tables.  
  
"Miss Granger!" A hand reached up and grabbed Hermione's arm, pulling her down. Snape pulled her under his desk where she sat, awkwardly pressed against him, until the shaking stopped.  
  
"Do you have a death wish?" he asked her, sounding irritated. She shook her head, feeling dazed, and stood up with the professor.  
  
"Has that ever happened before?" she asked quietly. Snape's expression changed and he shook his head, looking almost worried.  
  
"No."  
  
Albus Dumbledore's voice sounded in the room as the students climbed out from under their tables.  
  
"...just a small earthquake, no need for concern. Classes will continue as usual."  
  
Hermione and Snape walked quickly around the room checking for injuries. The minor ones they healed themselves, and the questionable ones Hermione took to the hospital wing. Her heart went out to the terrified group of first years that followed close behind her.  
  
A hesitant tug on her robes made her stop and turn around. A small girl, a Gryffindor if Hermione remembered correctly, gazed up at her.  
  
"Does this mean You-Know-Who is coming back?" she asked in a small voice.  
  
"No, honey," Hermione answered, kneeling down and hugging the girl. The small group pressed closer and Hermione widened her hug, encompassing them all.  
  
"You-Know-Who is gone, guys. It was just an earthquake. Just like Professor Dumbledore said, there's nothing to be worried about. Okay?"  
  
She looked around at the five faces surrounding her and smiled reassuringly. She received tentative smiles in return and stood.  
  
"Let's let Madam Pomfrey take a look at you all."  
  
There was a small queue in the hospital wing, but it didn't take Madam Pomfrey long to look over the kids and find no serious injuries.  
  
"And you?" she said, eyeing Hermione sternly.  
  
"Oh, I'm fine."  
  
"Hmm. What about this?" Madam Pomfrey seized Hermione's left arm and held it out. Hermione looked down and saw the sleeves of her robes was torn through to her skin.  
  
"I didn't even notice," Hermione murmured.  
  
"Clearly." Madam Pomfrey rubbed a bit of something on the cut. It felt like the solution Pomfrey had given her last year.  
  
A few minutes later Madam Pomfrey declared them all fit to leave.  
  
Hermione took the kids back to the classroom, where they gathered their things and left for their next class.  
  
Snape was methodically and magically clearing away the broken glass and spilled potion ingredients.  
  
"Everything alright?" Hermione asked, gazing around the room. Snape nodded.  
  
"Some ingredients mixed that weren't supposed to mix and scared the hell out of the students, but otherwise, everything is fine."  
  
"Good." Hermione sat wearily on a stool and Snape looked up at her.  
  
"You're alright? You're not hurt?"  
  
"Madam Pomfrey noticed a cut on my arm that I never even felt. I think I got it when you pulled me under the desk."  
  
Snape's face remained oddly blank.  
  
"How about you?"  
  
"I'm fine. Dumbledore's called a staff meeting, he wants both of us there."  
  
Hermione nodded, not bothering to ask how Dumbledore had gotten the message around so fast.  
  
Hermione watched Snape float around the room, seeming more agitated than usual.  
  
"Sir," Hermione said carefully, "it was just an earthquake."  
  
"I don't need reassurances, Miss Granger," Snape said shortly. Hermione didn't call him on the lie.  
  
A break was set for after lunch, with the prefects and Head Boy and Girl supervising the students, while the professors held their staff meeting.  
  
"Albus," McGonagall began evenly, "what happened this morning?"  
  
"An earthquake," Dumbledore replied in an infuriatingly calm voice.  
  
"Thank you," Snape muttered sarcastically.  
  
"Albus," McGonagall began again, her brow furrowed in irritation, "you know as well as I that natural... phenomena, such as earthquakes, do not affect this school."  
  
Hermione now realized why Snape had seemed so aggravated before and glanced at him now. He was staring at his steepled fingers intently, seeming as if he wasn't listening, though Hermione knew better.  
  
"The only explanation," McGonagall was saying, "is magical. And I suspect magic performed on these grounds."  
  
Several teachers looked up sharply.  
  
"Are you accusing a teacher, Minerva?" Professor Sinistra asked defensively.  
  
"I made no accusations. Merely a suggestion."  
  
"You don't think Voldemort," Lavender began very quietly.  
  
"Voldemort is dead," Snape snapped, with such force that Lavender shrank back in her chair, her cheeks pink.  
  
"Miss Brown is just voicing a concern that I'm sure not only she holds, Severus," Dumbledore interjected measuredly.  
  
"All I am saying is that it's not Voldemort," Snape amended, glancing at Lavender. "Voldemort is dead."  
  
Hermione unconsciously touched Snape's arm as a calming gesture, one that always seemed to work, though they weren't quite sure why.  
  
"What Professor Snape is saying is that someone else is behind this. Teachers are not free from suspicion." Hermione's voice shook ever so slightly at speaking up like this. "But neither is anyone else who could've come onto the grounds unnoticed."  
  
"Miss Granger is correct," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly at Hermione. "Let's brainstorm, shall we?"  
  
The meeting was ended a half an hour later with no real solution. Snape's displeasure with this was written all over his face and Hermione remained silent until they had arrived back at the classroom. She followed Snape into his room and watched him pour himself a drink. He held the bottle in her direction, eyebrow cocked inquiringly. Hermione shook her head, frowning.  
  
"No- sir, there's still 3 classes to go."  
  
"I'm sure you can handle them."  
  
"I'm sure I could, but I'm not the Potions Master."  
  
"No better time to start working toward it." Snape took a sip of his drink and Hermione's frown deepened to a scowl. She stomped over to the professor and snatched the drink from his hand.  
  
"Quit acting like a stubborn fool and do your job. Save the drinking for _after_ dinner."  
  
Snape stared after Hermione as she marched into his bathroom and poured the drink down the drain. She reentered the room and pointed sternly towards the office. Feeling bemused, he obeyed her silent command, wondering why exactly. He didn't have an answer, except that she was right.  
  
The final three classes of the day passed without incident and Hermione was glad for dinner, since she hadn't eaten much at lunch. She listened, rather than talked, as Ron told her about his day.  
  
When she finished, she stood, feeling exhausted and ready to go to bed early, and an owl came fluttering down to the table, a letter tied to one skinny leg. Frowning slightly, Hermione untied the letter and opened it, reading as the owl flew away.  
  
Ron and Snape both watched as Hermione's grip tightened on the letter and she abruptly turned and left the Hall.  
  
Ron wanted to go after her but hated the thought of rumors spreading amongst the students and he also hated Snape as he set his napkin down and stood up from the table. In the eyes of the students, Snape had more reason to go after Hermione than Ron did and Ron felt like hexing him for it, but his wand remained in his pocket and he turned back to his dinner.  
  
Meanwhile, Snape headed for the dungeons, where he went through the classroom and his room without sight of Hermione. He found her in her room, sitting on the end of her bed, sobbing quietly.  
  
"Miss Granger?" Snape said carefully. Hermione looked up at him, her face contorted with grief.  
  
"What's happened?" he asked, slowly advancing towards her.  
  
"My parents... they were in an accident," Hermione said tremulously. "My dad... he's..." She couldn't finish the sentence, instead bursting into tears again.  
  
"What about your mother?" Snape asked quietly.  
  
"She's at the hospital. I have to go see her..." Hermione stood suddenly, gathering some clothes and throwing them into a bag.  
  
"She's at St. Mungo's?" Snape said and immediately felt foolish.  
  
"Of course not." Hermione disappeared into her bathroom and emerged a moment later, arms full of toiletry items. "I only found out tonight because they're good friends with a wizard couple who live near the house."  
  
"Miss Granger, you can't-"  
  
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Hermione looked up sharply, with a glare to rival one of Snape's own. "My father is... is... _dead_," Hermione said, her voice hitching on the word, "and my mother is in the hospital, for all I know on the brink of death. My father died without me there, I sure as hell am not going to be _here_ if the same happens to my mother."  
  
Hermione wrenched her bag closed and grabbed her cloak, scanning the room for anything important she might have missed.  
  
"When will you be back?" There was a sensation in Snape's stomach, one he wasn't familiar with.  
  
"Whenever my mother is well, however long that takes."  
  
Hermione moved towards the door.  
  
"Shouldn't you wait until morning, when it's safer?"  
  
"Safer from what? And if you try to stop me from leaving one more time, I'll hex you into next week," Hermione replied testily, raising her wand as Snape opened his mouth to protest yet again. After a hesitation, Snape closed his mouth and stared darkly after Hermione as she left the room.  
  
Ron went to check on Hermione after dinner and, to his surprise, found her room empty. Perhaps she was in the study.  
  
He walked through the room and opened the door. Snape was sitting, along, at the table, marking papers or holding secret communications with now defunct Death Eaters. Ron suspected the latter.  
  
"Where's Hermione?" he asked bluntly.  
  
"She's left," Snape answered idly, not looking at Ron.  
  
"Left? Why? Where did she go?"  
  
"She's gone home for a bit. Family emergency."  
  
"What-"  
  
"I feel if Miss Granger had felt you needed to know of her whereabouts, she surely would've told you." The hint of smugness in the professor's voice infuriated Ron and he longed to curse the slimy bastard.  
  
"I'm sure we have nothing more to discuss, Weasley."  
  
Ears burning, Ron closed the door and walked back through Hermione's room and up to his own, where he drafted and sent a letter to Hermione, imagining all the curses he could put on Snape.  
  
He received a short note from Hermione the next morning, telling him what had happened.  
  
It made him feel better, knowing what was going on, but he couldn't help the feeling that Snape always knew more.  
  
This reason made it all the more special when Ron was the first to see Hermione when she returned four weeks later. His class greeted her enthusiastically, as most of the students liked her immensely.  
  
"How's your mum?" Ron asked when the bell rang and the kids trickled away to their next class.  
  
"Better. They discharged her two days ago. She's staying with some friends, a wizard couple. I think she thinks it's easier to keep tabs on me that way."  
  
"You look good," Ron said carefully.  
  
"More so than how I feel, I'm sure."  
  
"C'mon, let's take a walk."  
  
Hermione set her bag inside the storage cabin and walked with Ron to the lake.  
  
"How are you feeling?" he asked gently when they were seated under a large tree.  
  
"Lost. My dad and I were close, closer than mum and me. He was like my best friend until I came to Hogwarts. I was too smart in primary school, I didn't have any friends, but he was there, every day, when I came home crying because the kids had picked on me." Hermione smiled ruefully through her tears, a faraway look in her eyes. "He always made me feel better. And after I got my Hogwarts letter, and my parents understood everything, he was so proud of me. He always said I was extra special."  
  
"You are," Ron said quietly.  
  
"And now he's gone." Hermione began to cry freely now and Ron put his arms around her, holding her as she sobbed into his chest.  
  
The setting sun prompted Hermione and Ron to stand and head back to the castle for dinner, Hermione quickly dropping her things in her room.  
  
She cheered visibly as she was positively greeted by the students and was fully smiling as she took her seat at the staff table.  
  
Snape looked at her, an uncharacteristically bewildered look in his eyes.  
  
"When did you get back?" he asked, watching Hermione gather her dinner.  
  
"A few hours ago," she replied, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.  
  
Snape opened his mouth to say some snide comment, but the desire left him and he turned, feeling slightly confused, back to his plate. And then, as if someone had dropped a brick in his stomach, he realized why he had nothing to say to her: he had actually missed her. Not just her help with classes but her company as well. Having someone to talk to who wasn't afraid to oppose him.  
  
He glanced over at Hermione, who was chatting animatedly with Ron and Harry.  
  
Snape hurriedly finished his dinner and left the table, fully prepared to hole himself up in his room with a drink and some papers to give bad grades on.  
  
But not fifteen minutes later, Hermione entered the study.  
  
"Hello, Professor."  
  
Snape nearly choked on his drink, coughing a bit as he turned to look at Hermione. She helped herself to a drink and brought it and the bottle over, setting it on the table as she sat down.  
  
"Do you have anything you need me to do?" Hermione asked, glancing at the papers Snape was grading. Wordlessly he pushed the gradebook towards her.  
  
They worked in silence until Snape heard Hermione sniffle softly. He looked up at her and could see she was trying, with difficulty, to stifle her tears.  
  
"Miss Granger?" he said cautiously, feeling wary. She looked up and wiped her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, it's just hard-"  
  
"I didn't ask you to apologize, child. I hardly expected you to be your usual self after the death of your father."  
  
Snape handed her a handkerchief and Hermione dried her eyes and blew her nose delicately. Snape topped off her drink and smiled thinly at her curious look.  
  
"It'll make you feel better."  
  
Hermione gave him a wan smile and sipped her drink. She recorded the last few grades and she and Snape headed to the couch.  
  
"How's your mother?" Snape asked, echoing Ron's earlier question.  
  
"Physically, she's healing. She's staying with the wizarding couple I mentioned to you before I left. Probably to keep tabs on me."  
  
"As if you could blame her," Snape added quietly.  
  
Hermione nodded. "But emotionally... she's just a wreck. She couldn't even pack her bag at home, couldn't even bear to go in the room..."  
  
"I suppose you did?" Snape felt a sudden surge of pity, causing him to shift slightly in his seat.  
  
"Yes. It wasn't all that much easier for me to do it." Perhaps to keep herself from crying again, Hermione took a long sip of her drink, subsequently refilling the glass.  
  
"Does the rest of your family know what you are?" Snape asked the question that had tickled the crevices of his mind since Hermione had left.  
  
"A witch?"  
  
Snape nodded, absently rolling his glass between his hands.  
  
"Some do. Only the ones mum and dad thought could handle it and wouldn't tell. Some were relieved to know why I never got seriously hurt as a kid, even when I fell out of a tree once."  
  
Snape smirked inwardly at the thought of Hermione climbing trees. Probably to read.  
  
"Did you ever accidentally do things when you were younger?" Snape wasn't sure why he was so interested in Hermione's past, but it seemed to be cheering her up, as he noticed a small smile on her face.  
  
"Once, at school, a kid was making fun of me, for one of many innumerable reasons, I'm sure, and as he walked away, somehow his shoelaces got knotted together and he tripped. And another time, a kid tried to throw food at me at lunch and it boomeranged back and hit him in the face. And another time- "  
  
"You got picked on a lot in school, didn't you," Snape said softly. Hermione nodded, sipping her drink.  
  
"Well, there's something we have in common."  
  
"That and our taste for fine alcohol."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Hermione grinned and downed her drink, pouring herself another one.  
  
"You can't drink the pain away," Snape said gently. "I've tried. It doesn't work."  
  
"I know," Hermione replied quietly, staring into her drink. "But it makes a nice, if brief, substitute for the healing process."  
  
"That it does," Snape agreed, watching as Hermione attempted to drown her sorrows. 


	4. As it all comes undone

A/N: Here it is, Chapter 4, a mere day after Chapter 3. Let's not all freak out at once... heh. Feedback is appreciated! Preferably seperate for Chapters 3 and 4... :P

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"I've decided to forgo the Polyjuice Potion."   
  
"What?" Hermione was having difficulty focusing on the professor through her hangover.   
  
"Nix the Polyjuice Potion," Snape said slowly, feeling a little irritated.   
  
"Oh. Yes. Right. Okay," Hermione murmured. Sighing, Snape stood up and gave Hermione some more of the green potion.   
  
"Thanks," she said sheepishly as everything returned to normal.   
  
"You really ought to discover your limit, Miss Granger," Snape said as he sat back down.   
  
"Yes, well... what'll you have me do today?"   
  
"Teach," Snape replied shortly, regarding her closely.   
  
"Alright."   
  
"Are you sure you're up to it?" the professor asked carefully. Hermione frowned.   
  
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"   
  
Snape looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment.   
  
"I just thought that you might prefer a break, what with your- everything that's happened."   
  
"I'm fine. Really." Hermione grabbed the lesson plan from in front of Snape and left the office, already absorbed in the plans for the day.

The weeks passed and Hermione made no more mention of her father, though Snape did notice the increase in her alcohol consumption each night. He worried, despite himself, that she was sinking into a depression, but couldn't think of how best to pull her out of it, short of bringing her father back to life.   
  
But a few weeks before Christmas, they both found something to distract them from their worries as they sat one night, recording grades as usual.   
  
Hermione, noticing with slight annoyance that he quill was drying up, began to reach for the ink bottle that was across the table, near Snape's left arm. She was still recording a grade with what little ink she had left when she heard the sound of heavy glass sliding across wood and felt the cool surface of the ink bottle.   
  
"Did you just make that ink bottle slide across the table?" Snape asked in a measured voice.   
  
"I-um, yes... I suppose I did..." Hermione frowned, feeling rather confused.   
  
"How?" Snape looked up at her, his eyes hard and glittering.   
  
"I... er, I don't quite know." Hermione let go of the bottle suddenly, as if it might burn her, and looked at Snape, who laid down his quill and surveyed her.   
  
"You didn't use your wand?"   
  
"No, I was just thinking I needed the bottle and... it came."   
  
Snape's eyes widened very slightly at this and he sat straight in his chair.   
  
"Do it again."   
  
"Er... okay." Hermione tentatively held out her hand and stared at Snape's quill, thinking to herself that she wanted it. It quivered ominously, then very shakily slid off the pile of papers and across the table to Hermione. Her hand trembled as it closed around the black quill.   
  
"You're not... you can't... but how..." Snape sputtered and suddenly the quill flew from Hermione's hand back to Snape's. He dropped the quill and stood quickly, startling Hermione.   
  
"We need to see Dumbledore. Now."   
  
Hermione stood and headed for the door.   
  
"Not that way!" Snape said, sounding annoyed, and Hermione stumbled back a step as her robes suddenly pulled tight across her front and she felt herself pulled back. She turned after she regained her balance and saw Snape lower his hand.   
  
"Sorry, Miss Granger." He looked as confused as she felt and beckoned to the fire. "Floo will be faster."   
  
Nodding wordlessly, Hermione stepped to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and chucked it into the fire. The flames turned green and she stepped in.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore's office," she said loudly and clearly, and soon she was spinning dizzingly fast.   
  
She was so lightheaded that she toppled onto the floor of Dumbledore's office when she arrived and stared up at the ceiling as the Headmaster came into view, looking bewildered.   
  
"Good evening, sir," she muttered as he helped her to her feet. As she stood, Snape stepped out of the fire with a bit more alacrity, brushing off his robes impatiently.   
  
"To what do I owe this rather unexpected visit?" Dumbledore asked, returning to his desk. As he did, a fascinating looking object on the headmaster's desk caught Hermione's eye ad promptly slid across the surface and onto the floor.   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing over and picking the thing up.   
  
"That," Snape said shortly.   
  
"Miss Granger is summoning things without the use of her wand?"   
  
"Not just Miss Granger, Albus. Myself as well."   
  
Dumbledore nodded and sat back in his chair, steepling the tips of his long fingers together.   
  
"Yes. I wondered if this might happen."   
  
Snape scowled deeply at this, his irritation at Dumbledore for once again keeping something potentially vital back evident.   
  
"Tell me, have you noticed anything else strange?"   
  
"Such as?" Snape asked impatiently.   
  
"Heightened senses of smell, hearing, sight. Unexplainable knowledge of events happening around you."   
  
Hermione nodded, dozens of things springing to mind, such as hearing Snape's breathing as he slept the night she went in his office, the smell in her room after Ron had stayed with her, and, of course, the incident with the boy in class.   
  
Snape nodded as well.   
  
"Fascinating..."   
  
"_What_ is fascinating?" Snape looked very much like he wanted to throttle the older man.   
  
"I believe that when the two of you vanquished Voldemort, you each received a share of his powers. Much like Harry when he was a baby. Except much greater."   
  
"And you knew about this?"   
  
"No, I just suspected it."   
  
Snape glowered.   
  
"I feel this is a rather exceptional gift, Severus. You and Miss Granger should hone your abilities."   
  
Hermione was silent, remembering that it was this ability that had sent her flying through the air and into walls and bookshelves.   
  
"Powers are only bad, Miss Granger, if the person uses them to do bad things," Dumbledore said softly, reading Hermione surprisingly well. She nodded, feeling Snape's eyes on her, but refusing to look at him, unsure of what might happen if she did. She feared tears.   
  
"If that is all," Dumbledore said with a tone of closing.   
  
"That is not all, we're just supposed to live with this?" Snape said loudly.   
  
"Really, Severus, I must tell you, this display is rather pointless."   
  
Snape faltered at Dumbledore's calm but piercing stare, his mouth hanging open slightly before he had sense enough to close it.   
  
Hermione, after enduring the stare down as long as she could, turned and silently left the room. Neither man tried to stop her.   
  
She descended the spiral staircase slowly, lost in her thoughts, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, partly because the corridor was freezing and partly because she didn't want to accidentally summon anything.   
  
Her heels clicked with a steady rhythm, echoing in the frozen hall. She didn't want this power, she didn't want anything of Voldemort's, physical or metaphysical. It wasn't fair, really.   
  
Hermione found herself in front of her door, and, sighing, muttered the password and pushed it open, entering her room. She wasn't one to pity herself, and therefore tried not to dwell on it for too much longer. She reached absently for her brush, lying on her bedside table. It shook slightly and she jumped, dropping her hand and biting her lower lip. Keeping her hands in her robes until she reached for what she desired, she prepared herself for bed, finally sliding between the sheets, the bed already warmed courtesy of a house-elf.   
  
Hermione slept fitfully, dreams full of nightmares that she hadn't had in over a year.   
  
It didn't help, either, that at breakfast, Professor Weed seemed happier than usual and kept smiling creepily at her.   
  
She stomped irritably into Snape's office after she'd finished eating and he stared at her, one eyebrow cocked.   
  
"That man is off," she muttered.   
  
"Which man? It's a might difficult to guess in a school pretty well populated with men."   
  
Hermione glared at Snape, too put off to acknowledge his teasing of her. "You know perfectly well who I mean."   
  
Snape sighed.   
  
"You agree with me, I know you do."   
  
"You are right about that, at least, Miss Granger."   
  
"Who _is_ he?" Hermione asked, exasperated. "He's the first person I've seen Dumbledore hire that seems to have the most secrets." Hermione glanced over at Snape. "He's not a Death Eater, is he? Or was he, I suppose..."   
  
Snape frowned slightly. "No. I don't think so. No way to really know, though, is there?" He looked down at his now bare forearm. The Mark had indeed disappeared when Voldemort had died.   
  
"I guess not," Hermione murmured.   
  
Hermione went to visit Ron during her break, stomping through the snow to tell him about her new abilities.   
  
"Er... cool? I guess?" Ron glanced warily at Hermione, unsure of what to say exactly.   
  
"I'm not sure yet," Hermione replied, frowning slightly. "It's a bit annoying, really. I can't quite control it yet." Hermione tried to summon an empty pot and it fell with a thump to the snow halfway.   
  
"Let's go inside," Ron said, replacing the pot with the others. "It's freezing out here."   
  
Hermione nodded and started to follow Ron up to the castle.   
  
"Ron, look," she whispered, grabbing his hand and pointing with her free one to Professor Weed tromping through the snow to the greenhouses, a large crate in his hands.   
  
"So?"   
  
"He's gotta be up to something. It's freezing cold out here, why would he be working outside?"   
  
"Could ask the same about us," Ron grumbled. "He's weird, Hermione, what do you want? C'mon, I'm dying here."   
  
Hermione turned and reluctantly followed Ron into the castle. The next two weeks before holiday were spent perparing the castle for Christmas and trying to teach last bits of information to otherwise occupied students. Hermione had talked Snape into letting her decorate the classroom for the holidays and garland now bordered the wall at the ceiling, a soothing green dotted with red bows to break up the cold gray of the frigid dungeons. A large wreath hung on the door, dotted with red berries and real fairies that Hermione had to keep warm with a small cauldron of boiling water; they hovered in the steam when they got too cold.   
  
Finally the last day arrived and the students were free. Most would leave for home the following morning, as would Hermione, to visit her still depressed mother.   
  
She sat drinking with Snape after dinner, discussing whatever came to mind. Snape allowed her to touch on subjects normally no one could, mostly about his past, though he never allowed her to delve too deep. He listened to her talk about her father, and watched as she grew steadily drunker.   
  
Soon, she was showing him pictures of her family. He regarded the stationary images with interest.   
  
"You look happy," he observed softly.   
  
"I was," Hermione replied quietly.   
  
"What'll it take to make you happy again?"   
  
Hermione looked up at Snape, her face inches from his.   
  
"I don't know," she whispered. Snape cleared his throat.   
  
"I believe it's time for bed, Miss Granger," he said, shifting slightly in his seat. Hermione smiled slightly, looking a little tipsy. She was close enough so that Snape picked up her scent, a smell of soap and flowers and... warmth.   
  
"Professor," Hermione murmured, and started to fall sideways. Snape grabbed her arms and held her straight.   
  
"Hmm?" The sound caught in Snape's throat and his hands stayed on her arms.   
  
"I think you can call me by my name."   
  
"Hermione." Snape's voice had lowered and he stared down at Hermione's upturned face.   
  
"Hmm, that's it." And then it happened. Hermione's lips found his and she kissed him, softly but without hesitation. And he returned it, his hand moving to find her cheek. He tasted brandy and chocolate, an intoxicating mixture that made him feel lightheaded.   
  
And then it was over. Snape's hand remained on Hermione's cheek and he stared into her eyes.   
  
"I do believe that it is time for bed," he said in a low voice.   
  
"Perhaps," Hermione replied very softly. Hermione awoke the next morning in her own bed, with a splitting headache and a dim recollection of the previous night, excepting, of course, the kiss.   
  
She stared up at the ceiling, grateful for the darkness to help her headache.   
  
She had kissed Professor Snape. Stranger still, he had kissed her back. She remembered that. She had tasted brandy and cinnamon on his lips, a combination she had not quite expected. But to expect it at all! Had Hermione, subconsciously, wanted this to happen? It seemed rather Freudian but yet not so wrong. Only about 20 years seperated them, and in the scheme of witches and wizards, it wasn't that great an age difference.   
  
But there was Ron.   
  
Hermione's head throbbed and she frowned, closing her eyes. Yes, there was Ron. There would always _be_ Ron. Hermione had always been able to see herself with Ron, but now her head filled without different thoughts of a different man.   
  
Hermione cast the thoughts away. It was just a kiss. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly nothing would come of it. All she would do was talk to Snape. Clear the air. It was nothing. Hermione's head throbbed again and she winced. After holidays. She would talk to him about it after the break. Give herself time to really think it over.   
  
Soon Hermione had finished packing and she wondered briefly about Snape's plans for the holiday. Rather than ask though, she bit her lip and grabbed her suitcase, which was smaller and easier to handle than her trunk and left the room, heading for the school gates where, once outside, she Apparated to London, and took a cab home. Hermone paid the fare and got out of the cab, all thoughts of Snape, romantic or otherwise, cleared momentarily from her mind as she stared up at the two story house that had once been a home and now looked like a ghost.   
  
A wave of sadness washed over Hermione as she crossed the lawn and walked up to the front steps. Her mother wasn't there; she hadn't been back to the house yet, but Hermione felt the need to go inside.   
  
She entered the house slowly, as though afraid of what she might see. It was cold inside; the electricity was shut off, the bill not having been paid for almost two months.   
  
Hermione walked slowly through the house, tears very near the surface. It didn't feel like home anymore. Just a cold, dark structure where a family had once lived.   
  
Hermione climbed the stairs and walked to the end of the hallway, where her father's office sat, across from her own bedroom. She pushed the door open carefully and her breath caught in her throat. This room still had warmth, still smelled of her father, like mint and latex and aftershave. His degrees still hung on the wall. His name, John H. Granger, printed boldly on each one. Hermone sat in his chair, memories flooding her mind, accosting her senses. Days spent flipping through, and later reading, his medical books. Sitting on his lap as they told each other about their days. Nights reading stories and eating candy, always sugar free as a rule.   
  
Hermione's eyes landed on his datebook and she pulled it closer to her, sniffling as she flipped through the pages. Her birthday was marked, as was her mother's. Only two semblances of Hermione's other world marked the office. A wizard photograph of herself and Ron sat opposite a Muggle photograph of the small family, Hermione and her parents. And a Post-It, stuck to the frame of the wizard picture, said, simply, "Owl Hermione".   
  
Hermione sank back into the chair, pulling her feet up and placing her face in her hands, finally loosing the tears she had been holding back, not the tears of sadness Ron or Snape had seen, but tears of anger and bitterness and loneliness. "Hi, mum," Hermione said quietly an hour later. The wizard friends her mother was staying with had welcomed Hermione with open arms and after Hermione had settled in her room, she carefully entered her mother's.   
  
"Hello, dear," her mother responded without much emotion, gazing at Hermione.   
  
"How are you?"   
  
Mrs. Granger just shrugged. "Still alive, so I guess not too bad."   
  
Hermione flinched inwardly at this. She hadn't quite realized how deeply depressed her mother was.   
  
"You don't look well. Have you been eating?"   
  
"Haven't been hungry."   
  
Hermione stared at her mother, tears pricking the corners of her eyes again.   
  
"I'm here for Christmas, mum. Three weeks."   
  
"That's nice, dear." Hermione's mother turned back to the window and a tear escaped Hermione's eye and slid down her cheek.   
  
"Are you going to eat dinner with us?" Hermione asked softly, hearing the tremor in her voice.   
  
"I'm not very hungry, dear," Mrs. Granger responded to the window.   
  
"Okay," Hermione whispered, backing from the room and closing the door carefully.   
  
Trying to keep her tears at bay, Hermione walked to the kitchen, where Mrs. Getty, or Janie as she was known to nearly everyone, was preparing dinner. A knife was chopping up some potatoes and a spoon was stirring something in a pot, both propelled by magic.   
  
Janie turned to Hermione and sympathy filled her eyes.   
  
"Don't take it to heart, dear. She's not herself anymore."   
  
Hermione sniffled. "It'd be nice if she showed that she knew I was her daughter."   
  
"She'll come around, honey."   
  
"Can I help you?" Hermione asked, looking around the kitchen. Janie shook her head.   
  
"Don't worry yourself over it. Go visit with Earl for a bit, he's probably dying to talk to you."   
  
Hermione smiled slightly and left the room, finding Earl in the den.   
  
"There you are, love. I was wondering when you were gonna see me."   
  
Hermione smiled and gave the older man a hug.   
  
"You've cried too much lately, m'dear. Too many tears for someone so young," Earl said when Hermione pulled away.   
  
"It's been rough lately," Hermione replied, sitting in the chair beside his.   
  
"I know. Have you seen your mother?"   
  
"Yeah." Hermione stared at her hands, feeling as though she might cry again.   
  
"She's still mourning, love," Earl said gently. "Your parents were very much in love. It's hard for Maggie now, but she'll come around."   
  
"I just feel like... she doesn't know me..."   
  
Earl nodded. "Give her time."   
  
"I hate to leave her with you for so long." Hermione glanced guiltily up at Earl, who gazed genially back at her.   
  
"No need to feel guilty, dear. Janie and I don't mind. She enjoys taking after people."   
  
"Still though-"   
  
"Stop, love. It's nothing."   
  
Hermione smiled slightly and Earl lightly touched her nose, grinning at her.   
  
Hermione did all her Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley, stopping in to see Fred and George at their thriving jokeshop. They hugged her and gave her the Christmas present to her from their mother, and she left, promising she'd come back again.   
  
She finished two days before Christmas and, after stashing her purchases, went into the kitchen to help Janie with dinner.   
  
"Do you think you ought to make so much?" Hermione asked, peering into a simmering pot. "Mum probably won't be eating."   
  
"Perhaps, Hermione, but you still need to," Janie chided gently.   
  
"Oh, well, I haven't been very hungry lately," Hermione replied, pouring herself a glass of water and sitting down at the table. Janie peered at her intently for a moment, then turned back to preparing dinner.   
  
Christmas was a subdued affair, Mrs. Granger showing little interest in the whole situation, and Hermione held back her tears as her mother departed back into her solitude.   
  
"Honey," Janie began softly. Hermione stood and kissed Janie and Earl's cheeks.   
  
"Thank you for the gifts," she whispered. "I'm gonna go... out. I'll be back... later, I guess."   
  
Hermione grabbed her things and went back to her room, where she dressed and Apparated into London.   
  
Jamming her hands deep into the pockets of her coat, her right hand clenched tightly around her wand, she began to walk, letting her feet take her where they would, her mind wandering freely.   
  
She worried about her mother, her relationship with Ron, her relationship with Snape, it there was any, and she thought about her father, until she thought her head would explode and she found herself at a space between 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place. The address popped into her head and the door to 12 Grimmauld Place emerged. Hermione pressed the bell and heard it sound through the house, surprised not to hear the usual shrieks from the portrait of Mrs. Black.   
  
The door opened a moment later and a startled Remus Lupin peered.   
  
"Hermione?" he asked curiously.   
  
"What happened to the portrait?"   
  
"Sirius finally destroyed it. What're you doing here?"   
  
"Just stopping by," Hermione replied, and then burst into tears. Surprised, Lupin took her by the arm and brought her inside, taking her down to the kitchen and sitting her in a chair at the table.   
  
He poured her a cup of coffee and set it in front of her, sitting in a chair facing her.   
  
"What's wrong, Hermione?"   
  
"So much just isn't right," Hermione answered, hiccuping slightly, her hands grasping the steaming mug. "My dad's dead, my mother's depressed, and I'm confused about my relationship with Ron." Hermione sighed and sipped her coffee.   
  
"How're things with Professor Snape?" Lupin asked and Hermione nearly choked on her coffee.   
  
"What do you mean?" she asked quickly.   
  
"Is he treating you alright? With respect?"   
  
"Well, yes. He and I get along well," Hermione answered, making their relationship sound as platonic as possible.   
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione, about your father. You two were, uh, close, I assume."   
  
Hermione nodded, sniffling.   
  
"What's wrong with your relationship with Ron?"   
  
"I don't know... I feel like... I'm outgrowing him, I guess."   
  
"Is there someone else you had in mind, perhaps?"   
  
"No," Hermione responded, maybe a little too quickly. Lupin stared at her for a moment, then looked up as the kitchen door opened and Sirius walked in.   
  
"Who was at the door- oh. Hello, Hermione." Sirius smiled and gave Hermione a hug. "How are you?"   
  
"I've been better," Hermione murmured.   
  
"Problems with Snivellus?" Sirius muttered darkly.   
  
"No," Hermione answered, her eyes narrowing. "He's actually been quite civil towards me. We get on rather well."   
  
"Yes, well..." Sirius trailed off and turned to pour himself some coffee. Lupin turned to Hermione again, frowning slightly.   
  
"About you and Ron-"   
  
"It's fine. Forget it. Everything's alright," Hermione said quickly, standing abruptly.   
  
"Hermione," Lupin began, standing as well.   
  
"Never mind, Remus." Hermione kissed his cheek, then Sirius'. "Merry Christmas."   
  
Lupin watched her leave, feeling confused.   
  
"Buckbeak first, then Christmas," Sirius said, turning toward Lupin as he sipped his coffee.   
  
"Yes," Lupin replied absently. "Right away." Hermione returned to Hogwarts two days before term started again, ready to thrust herself wholeheartedly into work rather than think about her life.   
  
She didn't see Snape until the night before the term began. He didn't speak to her, he hardly acknowledged her presence, and she wondered if he had forgotten about the kiss.   
  
She found soon that he hadn't, as she stood in front of his bookshelves, staring at the titles.   
  
"Miss Granger?" the silky voice said, and Hermione turned.   
  
"How was your break?" Snape asked, sounding totally unlike himself.   
  
"Quite miserable, thanks."   
  
"Oh." Snape faltered, apparently not expecting that answer. Hermione hated this side of him and wanted to the old Snape back.   
  
"Look, sir, about the kiss-"   
  
"Yes, Miss Granger, about the kiss," he echoed brusquely, stepping forward a step, a bit of his own tone back.   
  
"It was nothing. I was drunk and got swept up in the moment of you being particularly nice to me. It was nothing."   
  
"Nothing," Snape repeated, and something changed in his face, and Hermione realized he'd _wanted_ it to be _something_. Her stomach fluttered and Hermione felt the same heady rush she'd felt that night.   
  
"Nothing, sir," she whispered. Snape nodded curtly.   
  
"Now that that's settled, good night, Miss Granger."   
  
Hermione nodded, taking her cue to leave. She entered her room, staring around the large space. Hogwarts had once felt like home to Hermione. Now there wasn't a place in the world that could make Hermione feel normal again. 

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A/N: Form your own ideas about Remus and Sirius living together... it's not the main focus.


	5. A different world

A/N: And so the spree ends... here's Chapter 5. I'm working on 6, should be done soon... maybe. Not sure yet. Reviews would be appreciated... for each new chapter, preferably... :P  
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"I'm tired of holding your hands while you make these potions!" Hermione snapped. "These are simple mixtures! Put your hands down and use your heads."   
  
Looking wary, the class turned back to their lessons and Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes. She was having trouble sleeping again, and it was starting to get to her.   
  
"Miss Granger," Snape's voice called from his office. Hermione sighed and left the classroom, entering Snape's office and looking at his seated form.   
  
"Sir?"   
  
"Perhaps you should take a break."   
  
"I don't need a break," Hermione said, frowning. Snape looked up at her, eyebrows raised.   
  
"That's not a suggestion, Miss Granger. It's an order."   
  
"Fine." Hermione turned on her heel and stomped over to her room, wrenching the door open and slamming it behind her.   
  
Maybe she should leave. Hermione eyed her trunk and actually thought about packing it full, leaving and never looking back, solving all her problems at once. But deep in heart she knew she never would, never _could._  
  
But what could she do? Hermione sighed, calming as she did so, and pulled off her robes, laying back on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. Her mind strayed, as it had taken to doing fairly often, to the kiss she had shared with Professor Snape. As always, however, a vision of Ron intruded upon her memory and guilt twisted her stomach. Should she break it off with Ron, to give herself time to think? She didn't like this option very much, though, because she was afraid of what her mind would decide for her. She had no one to talk to, either, no one that would understand. Not Ginny, not Harry, certainly not Remus or Sirius. She didn't have much of a choice, though. Sighing resignedly, Hermione stood, pulling her robes back on, and left her room, working her way up through the school until she reached Harry's room. The door was open and she could see a practical lesson going on. She caught Harry's eye and he came over to her, grinning.   
  
"Rather amusing, isn't it?" he said, watching the class fondly. "Makes me think of the old DA meetings."   
  
"Yeah. Harry, can I talk to you?"   
  
"Yeah, of course." Harry looked at Hermione, his eyes concerned. "Is everything alright?"   
  
"Not really." Hermione smiled wanly. "When's your break?"   
  
"After this class." Harry paused. "Wait, how come you're not in class?"   
  
"Snape made me leave."   
  
Harry looked confused for a moment, but nodded.   
  
"Alright. This class'll be over soon."   
  
Hermione nodded and Harry told her to wait in his office.   
  
When the bell rang, Harry entered the office and smiled at Hermione.   
  
"How are you?" Harry asked as he sat down.   
  
"Not so good. I've just got so much on my mind, I feel like I'm going to explode or something."   
  
"What's bothering you?"   
  
"Mum's still so depressed since dad died. I still haven't gotten over it."   
  
Harry stared closely at Hermione. "But that's not what's really bothering you. How are you and Ron?"   
  
Hermione looked up at Harry and shifted in her seat.   
  
"I don't know. I don't know where we're going. I just feel like I'm... outgrowing him," Hermione finished, almost ready to plead with Harry for advice. Instead, he frowned.   
  
"How so?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair. There it was. The question that led straight to the dilemma.   
  
"Oh, Harry..." Hermione began, feeling tears in her eyes.   
  
"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking startled.   
  
"You can't tell anyone, Harry. _Especially_ Ron."   
  
"Tell anyone _what_?" Harry asked, looking bewildered.   
  
"Promise me," Hermione said quietly, staring earnestly at Harry.   
  
"I promise."   
  
Hermione slid forward in her chair until she was perched on the edge, nervously picking at her nails.   
  
"It happened just before winter holidays... I didn't mean for it to, it just did. An accident, really..."   
  
"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked patiently. Hermione took a deep breath, and then plunged in.   
  
"I kissed Professor Snape," she said, very quietly, avoiding Harry's eyes. Harry was silent a moment.   
  
"You _what_?"   
  
"I didn't mean for it to happen, honestly! I was a little drunk-"   
  
"You... _kissed_ Professor Snape?" Harry echoed disbelievingly. Hermione finally looked up at him and nodded.   
  
"Hermione... what is _wrong_ with you?" Harry stood now, staring at Hermione.   
  
"I don't know..."   
  
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're not saying that's why you're confused about your relationship with Ron."   
  
"I didn't _say_ it," Hermione answered meekly.   
  
"Oh, _Hermione_! Love!" Harry stared at Hermione as though he didn't quite know what to do with her.   
  
"You can't tell _anyone_, Harry. You promised."   
  
"Hermione..." Harry said desperately. Hermione stood, approaching him.   
  
"I told you, Harry, because you're my best friend, you and Ginny and-"   
  
"I love you, Hermione, I do, but what am I supposed to do?"   
  
"Help me!"   
  
"Help you do what?" Harry asked incredulously.   
  
"Decide what I'm supposed to do."   
  
"Well, that's easy, stay with Ron and forget all about Snape," Harry said stubbornly. Hermione scowled.   
  
"It's not that simple, Harry."   
  
"How can you even _contemplate_ leaving Ron for Snape? How can you even _fathom_ a life with that man?"   
  
"I'd hoped, Harry, that you wouldn't let your prejudice against Snape interfere with helping me."   
  
"I can't help you!" Harry cried. "You expect me to help you choose Professor _Snape_ over my best friend? You're out of your mind!"   
  
"I'd hoped you'd have offered a little insight, a little advice," Hermione snapped.   
  
"You should've known where I stood before you even came up here!"   
  
"Fine." Hermione headed to the door, yanking it open.   
  
"Hermione, don't be-" The door slammed. "-mad."

A week after her argument with Harry, Hermione still hadn't made heads or tails of her situation yet, and it still bothered her.   
  
"How did you sleep last night?" Ron asked Monday morning of the following week.   
  
"Fine," Hermione mumbled. "Why?"   
  
"You didn't feel that earthquake last night?"   
  
"Earthquake?" Hermione looked up at Ron. "Another one?"   
  
"Yeah. Weird, huh?"   
  
Hermione nodded absently. "Yeah..."   
  
"So, Hogsmeade visit this weekend. Wanna go?"   
  
"Can't," Hermione said, distracted. "Papers to grade." She stood. "I'll see you later."   
  
Ron stared after her, bemused.   
  
Hermione walked down to the dungeons, remembering well enough what had happened after the last earthquake. She had gotten the letter about her parents' accident. And now she thought about it, Professor Weed had given her the same creepy smile then, too.   
  
Hermione frowned and changed course abruptly, heading back up and out of the castle to the greenhouses. The bell had rung by now, but there weren't any kids down at the greenhouses, so Hermione assumed he didn't have a class. She checked each greenhouse until she got to number 7, where she found the Herbology professor.   
  
"Tell me what you know about my dad's death."   
  
Weed didn't answer her right away, didn't even look at her, just continued tending to his plants.   
  
"Are you sure you should be down here?" he said finally. "I'd hate for Professor Snape to think I was hurting you."   
  
"Forget Snape, you know something. I know you do."   
  
"And why would I know anything about the death of your father? It was a car accident, from what I understand."   
  
"That somehow you caused," Hermione said in a pointed voice. Weed turned to look at her, his expression grave.   
  
"That's a pretty heavy accusation, Miss Granger. I'm not sure you want to go down that road."   
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "There was an earthquake the morning I found out about the accident. You looked a little too happy when I got my letter. Like you _knew_-"   
"Miss Granger, please. This is weak evidence, if you can even call it that. You have no proof that I have done anything wrong."   
  
"But there isn't any proof that you haven't. You work with very potent plants all day long, often by yourself. It wouldn't be beyond your ability to make a potion or cast some spell. How do I know I can trust you?"   
  
Weed stared levelly at Hermione. "How do you know you can't? Dumbledore trusts me enough, he hired me. Why shouldn't you trust someone Dumbledore trusts? You trust Professor Snape, and his history-"   
  
"What do you know about my father's death?" Hermione asked again, loudly, feeling that her already tremulous grip on her temper was fading.   
  
"Even if I told you I orchestrated the whole thing, it wouldn't bring him back."   
  
"Don't you dare patronize me," Hermione hissed, striding forward until she was directly in front of Weed.   
  
"I have nothing to say to you, child," Weed spat, his lip curling. "Go back and help your dear Professor Snape."   
  
Hermione slapped Weed, for more reasons than she could even process at the moment. He shoved her back, and she stumbled, bumping her hip on a table and falling to the ground.   
  
"Get out," he whispered dangerously. "You're a stupid little girl, looking for people to blame your problems on. Get up and get out." Weed turned away from her and Hermione slowly got to her feet, dusting her robes off.   
  
"You're a fraud," Hermione said evenly. "I'm going to find out what you're up to."   
  
Weed didn't respond and Hermione turned and left the greenhouse.   
  
"You're late," Snape said snidely as Hermione strode up the aisle between the tables.   
  
"You noticed," she answered, not caring very much either way, and walked past him, into his chambers and to her own room. She pushed the door closed, but Snape caught it before it clicked and stood in the threshold.   
  
"I do believe you're my assistant, Miss Granger. That does not give you the right to come and go as you please while class is in session."   
  
"I don't care too much about it right now, Professor," Hermione replied distractedly, searching through her desk. Snape's eyebrows twitched up.   
  
"I beg your pardon?" he said dangerously, but for the first time, Hermione didn't react.   
  
"I have something I need to do. I'll teach later, promise," she said, finally producing the sheet of parchment she'd been looking for.   
  
Snape was silent, watching Hermione for a moment, looking as though he had a million things to say, but decided against it and instead turned and left the room.   
  
Hermione sat down at her desk and dipped her quill into her ink, then started a letter to Sirius and Remus.   
  
She sent the letter off at lunch, and then found Snape in his office.   
  
"Sir?" she said carefully.   
  
"Are you still my assistant, Miss Granger? Or should I look for someone else?" Snape's voice had its usual harshness, but there was something else underneath. This struck Hermione and she frowned slightly, studying Snape's face until he cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair.   
  
"Miss Granger?"   
  
Hermione blinked. "Er, no, sir, you don't need to look for anyone else. I'm sorry."   
  
"Is everything alright, Miss Granger?" Snape's voice lost its harsh tone and Hermione sighed.   
  
"No. It's not." She paused. "Are you sure you don't know anything more about Professor Weed?"   
  
"Why?" Snape shifted in his seat. "Has he-"   
  
"No," Hermione interrupted. "No, I'm fine. It's just..." Hermione paused as she sat down in front of Snape's desk.   
  
"He's just so _off_, sir. You know what I'm talking about."   
  
"Yes," Snape answered slowly. "But as much pleasure as it would give me to do so, we can't persecute someone because he's a bit off."   
  
"I'm not saying we should _persecute_ him, I'm not saying we should do anything at all. I just want to know mmore about his background, where he comes from." Hermione tried to keep the desperate tone from her voice, but Snape must have noticed it, because he looked at her calculatingly, leaning forward in his seat.   
  
"Why is this so important to you?"   
  
"I just want to know, sir," Hermione answered, feeling exasperated now.   
"You don't think he had anything to do with your father's death, do you?"   
  
When Hermione didn't answer, Snape sighed.   
  
"You can't bring him back, Hermione," he said in the kindest voice Hermione had ever heard him use.   
  
"I know that, sir. I'm not trying to. And if you don't want to help me, that's fine." Hermione stood and left the office, heading to her room. She heard the bell ring, faintly, but ignored it, instead sitting on her bed and staring at the floor. She wondered if she would get a letter tonight. She wondered if she could avoid it. Doubtful.   
  
Class was starting now, but she wasn't in the mood to face them all. Hermione stood and pulled her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ from her trunk and lay on her stomach on her bed, content with flipping through the large book until whenever.   
  
Hermione woke up a few hours later and looked at the clock. It was time for dinner already. Hearing the tell tale rumble of her stomach, she got up and headed to the Hall for dinner.   
  
She ate, or tried to, until the owl she knew was coming dropped a letter in her lap. Wordlessly, she stood and left the Hall. Snape watched her leave and wondered what the letter was. Ten minutes later, he stood and left the Hall as well.   
  
He found Hermione in the study, seated on the floor between two bookcases, with her knees pulled to her chest. Her shoulders shook as she cried; the letter was crumpled up in her hand.   
  
"Miss Granger?" Snape said carefully, advancing towards her slowly. She didn't move or respond and he kept on until he was right in front of her, and he kneeled down.   
  
"Hermione?" he said softly. She looked up and sniffed.   
  
"What is it?" Snape asked, prying the letter from her hand and opening it.   
"My mother... she killed herself," Hermione answered, sounding defeated.   
  
"I'm sorry," Snape said, folding the letter and sticking it on the bookshelf.   
  
"Also," Hermione continued, hesitantly, "I lied to you."   
  
"You did?" Snape said, surprised that she would admit to lying, let alone lie to begin with. At least to him.   
  
"Yeah," Hermione replied, wiping her eyes. "When I said the kiss was nothing."   
  
Unable to reply, Snape just stared at Hermione.   
  
"It was something. It was everything."   
  
"It was."   
  
Hermione nodded.   
  
"So what does this mean?" Snape asked, clearing his throat.   
  
"It means that I meant to kiss you. And I'd really like to do it again."   
  
Hermione leaned forward, surprised when she met Snape halfway, and they kissed. The feeling was ten times more than the first one, and Hermione, through all her sadness and anger and confusion, felt something shift inside her. At that moment, Hermione's heart made up her mind for her. But the next morning, Hermione face a new dilemma: how to break it off with Ron.   
  
She struggled with how best to handle it all through breakfast and made up her mind to see Ron after dinner.   
  
The day passed terribly fast, and Hermione understood how Harry must've felt during the Triwizard Tournament before the tasks. Before Hermione was ready, dinner was on her, and she took her seat at the staff table with a mixture of nervousness and guilt. But, she reminded herself, she had already been considering this. _Only after you kissed Snape_, a voice hissed in her head.   
  
Hermione glanced at Ron and sighed. It was now or never.   
  
"Ron?"   
  
"Hmm?" he mumbled around his food, looking up at her.   
  
"Can we talk? After dinner?"   
  
Ron swallowed his food hard and stared at Hermione, worried. "Is everything alright?"   
  
"We just need to talk."   
  
"Alright," Ron answered, nodding. "Let's go."   
  
He stood and Hermione followed suit, trailing behind Ron as they left the Great Hall.   
  
He ushered her into his office and closed the door.   
  
"What's up?"   
  
"I'm leaving for a few days, but I needed to do this before I left."   
  
"Why don't we sit down?" Ron said, looking as though he might be sick as he sat down heavily in his chair. He looked up at Hermione.   
  
"You're breaking up with me, aren't you."   
  
"I'm sorry, Ron. I've just got so much to deal with right now, and I'm not giving you the attention you deserve."   
  
"I'm guilty of it, too. I knew this was coming. Just wasn't quite ready for it."   
  
"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione repeated softly. "I still love you."   
  
Ron nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. Hermione nodded and quietly left the room.  
  
She left the next morning, for her mother's funeral and all the family stuff. Luckily Hermione was past legal age, so there was no worry about custody of her. All there was to worry about was the funeral and handling the condolences from family and friends without having a complete nervous breakdown, and the reading of her mother's will. Hermione received the house, as stipulated in the event both of her parents should die. Fortunately, it was already completely paid for, meaning one less worry for Hermione.   
  
She returned to Hogwarts a week later, unable to stand the pity and sympathy from everyone.   
  
She entered the Potions classroom, smiling at the students as she walked up the aisle. Snape stared as she disappeared into his office.  
  
"Keep working," Snape said, standing and entering the office as well.   
  
"You're back," he said simply. Hermione nodded, almost amused.   
  
"You noticed." Hermione sat down wearily in Snape's chair, closing her eyes. She opened them a moment later to see Snape still standing there.   
  
"You still have a class to teach," she said gently. Snape nodded.   
  
"Yes. Of course." He turned to leave the office and Hermione sat up in the chair.   
  
"Did you miss me?" she asked, watching the professor intently. He paused, then looked back at her, his hand on the door frame.   
  
"Yes," he answered, then left the room. Hermione sat back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling, allowing a smile to creep onto her lips.   
  
Snape came into her room after the class was over.   
  
"How was it?" he asked carefully. Hermione looked up at him from where she was seated on her bed, staring at a book in her lap.   
  
"As far as funerals go..."   
  
Snape looked properly disgruntled as he sat down in the chair at Hermione's desk. Hermione smiled slightly.   
  
"It was fine. Lots of relatives offering their condolences and all that. Got to be too much."   
  
Snape nodded. "Understandable. But... um, well... I'm glad you're back."   
  
Hermione's smile widened and she moved forward to sit on the end of the bed, across from Snape.   
  
"It's difficult for you, isn't it?"   
  
"What is?" Snape asked, brushing his hair out of his face.   
  
"Admitting your emotions like that."   
  
"Well, yes."   
  
"It's alright. I'm an easy girl to please."   
  
Snape smiled thinly. "So what is this?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"This," Snape said, gesturing. "Us."   
  
"Is there an 'us'?" Hermione asked, eyeing Snape curiously.   
  
"I suppose that's what I'm asking you."   
  
Hermione smiled gently. "Let's play it by ear. Let's see where it takes us."   
  
Snape nodded. "This is all new to me," he said, looking uncomfortable with being so open.   
  
"I know. It's alright."   
  
Snape frowned slightly. "You've changed."   
  
"I suppose. I feel different. Better."   
  
"How come?" Snape asked, showing uncharacteristic curiousity.   
  
"I suppose it's because of you."   
  
Snape looked properly taken aback and Hermione smiled again.

Their relationship was quite different than the one Hermione had had with Ron. There was a lot less kissing and more just being together, being close. Snape did surprise Hermione, though, kissing her cheek spontaneously whenever he was close to her, and this made her smile more than anything.   
  
She was also able to finally work on honing her new powers now that her life had finally slowed down, and soon was quite apt at summoning things to her when she really wanted them, rather than things flying at her randomly when she thought about them.   
  
Hermione couldn't help but notice, however, how quiet Ron had become, and this made her sad.   
  
"Harry, you've got to talk to him," Hermione said during lunch one day. She hadn't yet told him about her relationship with Snape.   
  
"What can I do, Hermione?" Harry hissed. "You broke up with him. He still loves you."   
  
"Well, what can _I_ do?" Hermione countered. "I'm the happiest I've been in a long time."   
  
"Because you broke up with Ron?"   
  
"Because I don't have anything more to worry about, Harry." Hermione felt tired. This was bringing her down.   
  
"Do whatever you want," she said, sighing and standing, leaving the Hall.

"I think we should stop," Snape said later that night after waking Hermione up again.   
  
"Why?" she asked, standing and shaking her head quickly.   
  
"It took too long to wake you up that time." Snape looked worried, one of many new emotions surfacing more and more lately.   
  
"If you really want to. We can finish them tomorrow."   
  
Snape nodded and gathered the potions they hadn't tested yet in his hands, taking them into his office while Hermione destroyed the untestable potions. She looked up as Snape came back into the room and straightened up, looking at him curiously.   
  
"There's something different about you."   
  
"Is there?" A smile tugged at the corners of Snape's mouth.   
  
"Yes. What- oh, I know!" Hermione reached up and ran a hand through Snape's hair, smiling. "You washed it."   
  
Snape nodded.   
  
"It looks a lot better, Severus. I bet it feels better, too, doesn't it?"   
  
Snape nodded again and Hermione grinned.   
  
"Are you blushing?"   
  
"No," Snape answered quickly, his cheeks turning redder still.   
  
"Yes, you are." Still grinning, Hermione kissed his cheek, then led him to the couch where they sat, side by side.   
  
"It's really nice to see you smile," Hermione said, leaning her head on Snape's shoulder.   
  
"Haven't felt like doing it in a long time," Snape responded, taking Hermione's hand in his.   
  
"How come?"   
  
Snape sighed. "Bad childhood. Not too much better adulthood. Psychiatrist's dream, right?"   
  
Hermione could hear the wry smile in his voice and she squeezed his hand.   
  
"I'm here to listen. Free of charge."   
  
"It was your typical bad childhood. My father wasn't the kindest man in the world. Hit my mother a lot."   
  
"Did he ever hit you?" Hermione asked quietly.   
  
"No. But I always wondered when he would. And then one day, he just left. My mother always told me that I should never try to emulate my father, never try to be like him. I never wanted to. I thought my mother and I could live together, a nice family, even without a father or husband. Then my mother got sick. St. Mungo's could've made her better, but she didn't want to go. I knew she loved me, but she'd had enough. She died before I went to Hogwarts. I blamed my father for her death, and absorbed the Dark Arts. I had no family, it made me such an easy target for Potter and Black-" Snape broke off, clearing his throat, most likely for Hermione's benefit.   
  
"Anyhow, by the time I left school, I was pretty bitter and angry and eager to join Voldemort's ranks and he was more than happy to take me in. But as his power grew, the more unsure I became of my desire for absolute revenge. Voldemort wanted to kill the Potters, though he seemed to know that I'd had a bit of a crush on Lily in school. He mentioned something of keeping her alive as a gift to me... the thought was revolting, and I told him so. He called me a fool... but I could never have taken advantage of a woman... not even in my darkest days. I suppose my mother's advice still came through. And then the prophecy... I went to Dumbledore after Voldemort heard the prophecy. Dumbledore promised protection if I came back over to his side. And so I did. And then shortly after, Voldemort murdered the Potters, and Dumbledore hired me not too long after that. And the rest is, as they say, history."   
  
Hermione inhaled deeply, turning all this over inside her head.   
  
"Hermione?" Snape said after a minute.   
  
"Yeah," she murmured. "I'm sorry it's been so long since anyone loved you."   
  
"Since anyone _cared_ for me, really." Snape paused. "And then you came along, caring about me when I really didn't want anyone to."   
  
Hermione smiled slightly as she felt Snape kiss her temple.   
  
"Why did you care about me, anyway?" Snape continued curiously.   
  
"I don't know, really. I guess it started at the end of sixth year. I could see, even though Harry and Ron were blinded by their dislike for you, I could see the toll all the double agent business was having on you. Honestly, I worried. And then at the end of seventh year... you saved my life."   
  
Snape cleared his throat. "Yes, well, at the time, I wasn't trying to be a hero. I just didn't see the sense in you dying for something you weren't quite directly linked to." Snape paused. "And I didn't want you to die."   
  
"May the truth be revealed," Hermione said quietly.   
  
"I always thought you were brilliant, Hermione. Perhaps that's why I was so hard on you. I didn't see why you would waste your intelligence and talents on those that were, intellectually, lower than you. But, of course, you were human. You liked to help others, unlike myself, who had already deemed the rest of humanity worthless... anyhow, yes. You're brilliant."   
  
Hermione felt her cheeks reddening and didn't respond, instead turning her face and kissing his cheek lightly.   
  
"I think it's time for bed," she said, using Snape's leg for leverage as she stood. She turned and leaned down to kiss him, tucking her hair behind her ears.   
  
"Good night," she murmured, straightening and then turning and heading to her room. Snape watched her leave, smiling slightly.


	6. Setting things straight

A/N: Here it is, Chapter 6. Hope you like this one. 'cause I do... so yeah. Reviews? Please? Don't make me beg...  
  
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"How's Ron?" Hermione asked Harry a couple of days later. Ron hadn't come to the Hall for meals for the past week or so. Harry looked at Hermione, his expression pained.  
  
"Why don't you just go and ask him yourself?"  
  
"Harry-"  
  
"He's my best friend, Hermione. So are you, but you're happy. He's not. So there you are." Harry placed his napkin on the table and stood, leaving the Great Hall. Hermione sighed and dropped her fork on her plate, leaning back in her seat and staring blankly at the table.  
  
Severus brought her out of her trance when he stood and lightly touched her arm. She stood as well and followed him from the Hall.  
  
"Everything alright?" he asked as they approached the classroom.  
  
"Enough."  
  
"Why don't you take a little break? Go outside for a while. Get some air, some sun," Severus suggested gently as he opened the door to the classroom.  
  
"If you're sure."  
  
"Go on. Feel better."  
  
As the corridor was empty, they kissed quickly and Hermione watched Severus close the classroom door, then turned and started up the corridor, already feeling the sun on her face. She looked up as she neared the intersection of the corridor from the Great Hall and stopped in her tracks. Ron was staring at her, his eyes bright, his face a mask of disbelief. Hermione's heart jumped into her throat.  
  
"Ron?" she said hesitantly, starting towards him. The disbelief turned to disgust and Ron shook his head and turned, walking quickly out of sight. Hermione groaned and ran to catch him, grabbing his arm. He jerked it from her grasp and stared at her.  
  
"You and- and _him_?" Ron cried angrily, his voice carrying along the corridor.  
  
"Ron, shh," Hermione whispered desperately. Ron turned away from her and continued walking. Hermione followed him into his office and closed the door.  
  
"Did you break up with me for _him_?" Ron asked, rounding on Hermione.  
  
"Not exactly," Hermione muttered uncomfortably. "I'd already been thinking about it, Ron," she added quickly.  
  
"Well, that's comforting to know." Ron paced behind his desk, staring at Hermione, then stopped, placing his hands on the desk. "Hermione, you and... _Snape_?"  
  
Hermione didn't answer and Ron sighed, throwing his hands in the air.  
  
"Why? What could he _possibly_ have to give you that I don't?"  
  
"A lot, actually," Hermione whispered, the words catching in her throat.  
  
"That's wonderful, Hermione. It's nice to know that _our_ relationship didn't mean a thing to you."  
  
"That's not true!" Hermione protested as the bell rang. Ron snatched his robes from the hook on the wall and stormed past Hermione.  
  
"I have a class," he muttered, yanking open the office door.  
  
"Ron-"  
  
"No." Ron turned and glared at Hermione. "You and I, we have nothing more to discuss. Enjoy your life with Snape."  
  
Ron slammed the door, leaving Hermione standing in the middle of his office, wishing she could go back and fix the first thing that had gone wrong in this horrible chain of events, even though she wasn't entirely sure what it was.  
  
She stood with her eyes closed until the late bell rang, then she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. She still wanted to be outside, and so she walked to the foyer and stepped through the open doors and onto the steps.  
  
Hermione looked over at Ron's class, wondering what they were working on. Ron glanced up, meeting Hermione's gaze, and held it for a moment, then lowered his eyes and turned his back on her.  
  
Hermione sighed and walked down the steps, heading in the opposite direction, past the greenhouses and around the castle. She didn't come back here very often but she enjoyed it because of the rather large garden. After two years, Hermione had pretty much decided that it was staff maintained, as the only people she'd seen in it were teachers, leading also to her belief that teachers were the only ones who could get into it.  
  
Hermione lightly touched the pink roses on one of the bushes she had planted, gazing around at the colorful garden, breathing in the intoxicating fragrances of the assorted flowers and herbs around her. Feeling slightly better, Hermione retrieved a pair of clippers from the set of shelves that held all the gardening equipment and set about trimming back her roses.  
  
Soon her hand was filled with a cluster of fully bloomed, beautifully aromatic roses of varying color. Hermione breathed deeply, smiling to herself. She set the clippers back on the shelf and slowly left the garden.  
  
She reached her oom just as the bell rang and muttered the password, pushing her way into the room and shutting the door. She retrived a bowl from her bathroom and filled it with water, setting it on her desk and arranging her roses in it. She cast a preservation charm on them to keep them fresh and beautiful for as long as she wanted.  
  
Hermione stepped back, admiring the splash of color she'd added to the otherwise dark room and smiled to herself.  
  
She actually enjoyed not having anything to do, and it wasn't until lunch that Hermione realized it'd been nearly three weeks since she'd sent the letter to Sirius and Remus and she wondered if they'd gotten it. And then, almost as if she'd predicted it -she snorted at the thought-, an owl fluttered in and dropped a letter in her lap.  
  
Pushing her plate forward, Hermione rested her elbows on the table and opened the letter.  
  
_Hermione,  
  
How are you? I do hope everything's alright. We heard about your mother, I'm terribly sorry. Please know that Sirius and I are always here for you, if you need to ever talk.  
  
Apologies for taking so long to respond to your letter. As for this Professor Weed, neither I nor Sirius have heard of him. I wish we could do more to help you, but we're rather limited in our resources. Perhaps if you owl Arthur Weasley? Sorry we're not able to help more. But please do stay in touch.  
  
Yours,  
  
Remus Lupin_

Hermione sighed and folded the letter back up. She _could_ owl Mr. Weasley. Uneasily she wondered if Ron had told his parents about their break up, and then, with a slightly jolt of panic, wondered if he'd told them about her and Severus.  
  
Sighing, Hermione stood and made her way back to her room to compose a letter to Mr. Weasley.  
  
His response arrived far sooner than the one from Remus and his letter didn't show that he knew anything about Hermione and Ron's break up.  
  
Two days after sending the letter, Hermione sat reading Mr. Weasley's response in her room. After the condolences about her mother, Mr. Weasley surprised Hermione by having more information about Weed.  
  
Born outside of London, he was around Severus' age. Lost both parents at an early age and lived in an orphanage, but was able to attend a magic school, though not Hogwarts. Unfortunately, there were no more details about him after school, at least nothing Hermione was interested in. Just some recognition for new plant species.  
  
Hermione frowned, feeling disappointed, and fired off a quick thank you to Mr. Weasley. Of course, what had she been expecting? A long, detailed criminal record?  
  
Sighing to herself, Hermione took her to letter to the owlery and sent it off with one of the school owls.  
  
The bell rang as she walked across the grass back to the school, signaling the end of lunch. Hermione passed Ron as she climbed the front steps. He breezed by her as though he didn't even notice her.  
  
Sighing again, Hermione made her way back to the dungeons.  
  
Later that night, she and Severus were testing potions.  
  
"Oh, for the love of..." Severus muttered irritably, extinguishing with his wand the small fire one potion had created.  
  
"Some will never get potions," Hermione murmured, comparing the color of the potion in her right hand to the sample in her left.  
  
"Yes, well... they could at least learn to pay attention," Snape said crossly. Hermione grinned as she uncorked the bottle and picked up a dropper.  
  
"Why are you doing this anyway? I thought testing potions was my job."  
  
Severus shrugged. Hermione, still grinning, shook her head and reached for the potion. Instead of picking it up, however, she accidentally knocked it over, and before she could blink, the table and potion exploded, sending Hermione and Severus flying from the table, Severus into the bed and Hermione against the wall.  
  
"Hermione!" Severus called, pushing himself to his feet.  
  
"Over here. Ow."  
  
Severus pushed a smoldering hunk of table aside and waved away the smoke, finally locating Hermione seated against the wall.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.  
  
"My hand," she murmured, holding it out, palm up. A hunk of glass was embedded in her palm, probably forced into her hand when the potion exploded.  
  
"Let's go see Madam Pomfrey," Severus said, standing and helping Hermione to her feet.  
  
"I can walk- whoa." Hermione swayed. "Maybe I can't."  
  
Severus linked his arm through Hermione's and guided her through the classroom and up to the hospital wing.  
  
"What's happened?" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, bustling over.  
  
"A potion exploded. Miss Granger got glass in her hand," Severus explained, seating Hermione on the nearest bed.  
  
"And a broken wrist as well," Pomfrey said as she gently took Hermione's hand.  
  
"I'm also a little dizzy," Hermione offered. "I think I hit my head."  
  
Madam Pomfrey nodded and looked at Severus.  
  
"Do where you know where she keeps her night things?"  
  
Severus looked annoyed. "Why would I know that?"  
  
"Top drawer on the right," Hermione muttered.  
  
"I do now. I suppose you're keeping her here overnight."  
  
"Just to make sure nothing else is wrong."  
  
Severus nodded and swept into Pomfrey's office, from which he emerged a few minutes later, a blue nightgown in his hands.  
  
He thrust it at Hermione, who snatched it from him, feeling rather irritated with him.  
  
"Well, good night, then," he said, and swept from the room, his black robes billowing behind him. Hermione rolled her eyes and allowed Madam Pomfrey to clean and dress her wounds, and heal her wrist, then help her change for bed.  
  
After Madam Pomfrey extinguished the lamps and left the room, Hermione lay in her bed, staring at the moon through the window across the room.  
  
She fell asleep thinking it'd been a long time since she'd had the moon to lull her to sleep.  
  
When Hermione awoke the next morning, Madam Pomfrey checked and rebandaged Hermione's hand, and then let her go back to her room.  
  
Hermione made it to her room and bathed quickly, careful not to get the fresh bandage wet, then wrapped her bathrobe around herself and walked back into her room to find something to wear.  
  
She had just pulled a clean bra from her dresser when the door between her room and Severus' burst open and Severus entered the room. Hermione jumped, dropping the bra and pulling her robe tighter, glaring at Severus.  
  
"Hermione- oh. Bloody hell..." Flustered, Severus backed from the room, closing the door.  
  
Sighing, Hermione snatched the bra up off the floor and gathered the rest of her clothes together so she could get dressed.  
  
Grabbing her robes, Hermione opened the door and walked through Severus' room to his office. He stood when he saw her and walked around the desk.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, taking her hand and peering at the bandage.  
  
"Oh, _now _you're all gallant," Hermione said crankily, pulling her hand from his and shrugging her robes on.  
  
"Sorry," Severus said, helping her with her robes.  
  
"Not just now, I don't give a damn about that, I mean last night."  
  
"What about last night?"  
  
"Appearances are everything, I know that, and I don't care if you don't flaunt our relationship to the public, but I also don't want to be treated as some urchin you just took in off the street."  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
"We can show that we're friends, Severus. I've been your assistant for nearly two years. If were weren't friends, one of us wouldn't be alive today."  
  
Severus nodded. "Alright. I'm sorry. I told you, I'm not used to this."  
  
"I notice you cleaned up the mess," Hermione said, changing the subject abruptly. Severus nodded.  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Do you know who's potion it was?"  
  
"That's just it. I checked the list of potions already graded, which conveniently wasn't destroyed and managed to figure out the others... I don't think it was a student potion."  
  
Hermione looked at Severus skeptically. "That would mean that someone broke in here and set it with the class set."  
  
"I didn't say I knew how they did it."  
  
Hermione frowned. "Well, we can't worry about it now. What'll you have me do today?"  
  
"Just assist."  
  
Hermione nodded and left the office, entering the classroom and setting out ingredients.  
  
Her hand throbbed slightly and she thought about the previous night. She had no doubts as to who had made the potion, but she wondered how he'd gotten it in there.  
  
Hermione sighed and paused briefly, holding her now persistently throbbing hand and leaning against one of the tables.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She looked up and saw Severus watching her.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Hermione smiled at his concern and nodded.  
  
"I'm fine. It's just sore."  
  
"Do you need help?"  
  
"No. This is my job, I'm okay."  
  
"Alright," Severus relented, sitting down behind his desk with some papers.  
  
Hermione finished setting up everything a few minutes later and approached Severus' desk.  
  
"You don't have to help today if you're not up to it," Severus murmured, not looking up at her.  
  
"I'm fine," Hermione said gently. Severus looked up at her, absently fiddling with his quill, looking uncharacteristically jittery.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "Only every person I've gotten close to has either died or been hurt. You got hurt last night. I'm just-"  
  
"-worried," Hermione finished.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And so you want me to hide in my room? From what, the world?"  
  
Severus looked up at her, perturbed. "I don't want anything else to happen to you. Is that so wrong?"  
  
"No," Hermione said, sighing. "It's not. But you can't shield me from every bad thing that could happen."  
  
"But last night-"  
  
"What could you have possibly done last night to prevent that potion from exploding?"  
  
"I don't entirely know, but that's not the point."  
  
"That's just it, Severus. That _is_ the point. I know you care for me, and you're going through a lot of changes, but you need to relax."  
  
"It's not that simple, Hermione," Snape said quietly, pushing himself up as the bell rang for the students to head to class.  
  
Sighing, Hermione went to open the classroom door to let the students in.  
  
Hermione's hand had healed by the next morning, but Snape had become very wary of her testing potions, as she found out that night.  
  
"Come on, Severus. How can you test potions and grade papers?"  
  
"I did it before I had you," Severus answered shortly. Hermione scowled, annoyed, and left the room. She found Harry in his office, grading tests.  
  
"Are you talking to me?" she asked softly, standing in the doorway.  
  
"Never stopped," he muttered, frowning at the parchment in front of him. "You just haven't been by."  
  
Harry shook his head and scribbled something on the parchment, then set it atop the stack of already graded papers.  
  
"Ron told me about you and Snape, by the way," Harry added as he set about grading another test.  
  
"How is he?" Hermione asked, sitting down in front of Harry's desk.  
  
"Pretending he doesn't care."  
  
"And not talking to me," Hermione murmured. Harry looked up at her.  
  
"What do you expect him to do, Hermione? Get over the fact that you're with someone he's hated for nine years? And besides, I don't really see you making an effort."  
  
"I've been busy," Hermione said indignantly.  
  
"Hmm. How's your hand, by the way?"  
  
"Healed. That stuff Madam Pomfrey gave me worked wonders."  
  
"I assume that's why you're up here at this late hour?" Harry asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Snape won't let you grade potions anymore, will he."  
  
"That's what he said," Hermione muttered.  
  
"Honestly, I wouldn't either. Ron told me about you and Professor Weed. He couldn't tell me much, but he told me what he knew."  
  
"Which is what?" Hermione asked suspiciously.  
  
"That you think he's creepy. You don't like him and you don't trust him."  
  
"Sounds about right."  
  
"And from what I can tell, the feeling is mutual."  
  
"Seems that way."  
  
"I understand why you don't like him, but you seem to be his special target or something," Harry said, crossing out an answer on the test before him and scribbling the correct one.  
  
"I don't know why that is," Hermione murmured, glancing at her now healed hand.  
  
"A lot of terrible things have happened to you this year, Hermione. Are you sure it's safe for you to be at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, glancing up at her.  
  
"You sound just like Sev- Professor Snape," Hermione said, hastily correcting herself. Harry's gaze darkened slightly but he said nothing about the slip.  
  
"Well, there's one thing he's got going for him. He's worried about you."  
  
"Change your opinion of him?" Hermione asked slyly.  
  
"Not really," Harry answered mulishly, giving Hermione a look as he pushed his glasses up and glanced back at the paper in front of him.  
  
"C'mon, Harry. He's changed. A lot. Especially since last fall... if you gave him a chance-"  
  
"Damn it, Hermione," Harry shouted suddenly, slamming the graded test on the stack and making Hermione jump. "I don't want to give him a chance, alright? He had seven years of chances and he didn't take them. Maybe I would've enjoyed a better relationship with him if he'd have gotten over his stupid grudge against my dad and Sirius and Remus."  
  
"He had a crush on your mother," Hermione said softly. "While they were in school."  
  
"How do you know?" Harry asked, not meeting Hermione's eyes.  
  
"He told me. And he also told me that before Voldemort killed your parents, he talked to Severus about saving Lily- your mother, as a gift of sorts, but Severus could've never harmed her-"  
  
"Hermione, why are you telling me this?" Harry asked abruptly, still avoiding Hermione's eyes and staring at the next test without really seeing it.  
  
"So you can understand that Severus is not totally evil, as you think he is."  
  
"Severus, is it?" Harry looked up at Hermione, his eyes bright and flashing fiercely. "Look, Hermione, I don't care. So Snape had an attack of conscience, what'll we do? Canonize him?"  
  
"Harry, I just want you to understand-"  
  
"I don't want to. Okay? I don't care." Harry sniffed hard and took a deep breath, turning his eyes back to the task at hand. Hermione sighed and stood.  
  
"Good night, then, Harry."  
  
"'night," Harry muttered and Hermione left the office, feeling decidedly sadder than she had when she'd entered.  
  
The next morning, Harry pulled Hermione aside, away from the bustle of the students already heading to class.  
  
"Look, Hermione, about last night- I'm sorry. I know what you were trying to do. It's very admirable. There's a lot of truths about a few people that I'm not ready to accept just yet."  
  
"Like the fact that Professor Snape isn't a total git?" Hermione said, smiling slightly.  
  
"Yeah, that's one. That one'll be especially hard," Harry admitted, his face taking on a sour look at the thought. Hermione slapped his arm and walked into the throng, waving back at Harry as she moved to the dungeons.  
  
She entered the classroom and walked back to Snape's office.  
  
"Severus, I need-" Hermione stopped in the doorway, staring at the particularly dark look on her mentor's face. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Weed. After you left the Hall after breakfast, he asked how your hand was. With that simpering little smile..." Severus trailed off and Hermione knew he was imagining a great number of hexes to apply to the Herbology professor.  
  
"Maybe you should leave the school."  
  
"That's what Harry said," Hermione muttered, sitting in the chair in front of the desk.  
  
"Well, the boy's not entirely braindead. It'd be safer-"  
  
"Where would I go?" Hermione asked impatiently.  
  
"Live with Black and Lupin, I'm sure they'd like the company." It was the most civil thing Severus had said about Sirius and Remus, and by the way Severus' eyes glittered, he knew it and regretted it.  
  
"Or that wizard couple," he added.  
  
"I'm sick of the men in my life treating me like a china doll," Hermione snapped, standing and holding out her hand. Matching her glare, Severus handed her the potion ingredients.  
  
"And I'm sick of Gryffindor pride," Severus said, his lip curling ever so slightly. Breathing heavily through her nose, Hermione turned and left the office, slamming open the caibnet doors with a flick of her hand and sending three ingredient jars skidding across the counter, where one hit the wall and broke, sending newt eyes rolling about.  
  
"Oh, for the love of Merlin..." Hermione repaired the jar with her wand and put the newt eyes back in.  
  
"Are you destroying my ingredients?" Severus asked as he entered the room, sounding annoyed.  
  
"No. I fixed it."  
  
"You know, I could fire you," Severus said thoughtfully. Hermione turned to glare at him.  
  
"If you were no longer my assistant, then you'd have no reason to stay here. You'd leave and be safe."  
  
"I could destroy your reputation," Hermione said in a low voice, cluthing a jar of witch hazel tightly in her right hand.  
  
"My reputation won't mean a damn thing to me if you're dead, Hermione," Severus bit back, exasperation creeping into his voice. Hermione set the jar down and stared levelly at Severus.  
  
"You care about me. I understand that. But I'm not leaving. So drop it."  
  
"Fine." Severus dropped heavily into his seat and opened the right bottom drawer of his desk, removing the graded essays for the class.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and set about finished the distribution of ingredients. The bell rang for the students to head to class and Hermione sighed. She grabbed three ingredient jars from the last table and bustled over to the counter, seperating from three larger jars the ingredients to fill the smaller jars.  
  
She carried those back to the table and took the remaining three to the counter. She was filling the final jar when the late bell rang.  
  
"Oh, bloody _hell_," Hermione muttered, hastily screwing the lid back onto the jar and sending all three zooming through the air with a flick of her hand. They stopped just above the table and gently settled themselves next to the other three jars.  
  
"Been practicing your new powers, I see," Severus said silkily.  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered shortly. "Have you?"  
  
Hermione soon found herself pressed hard against the smooth stone wall, facing Snape, who had his hand raised, palm facing her.  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact."  
  
Feeling supremely irritated, Hermione raised her own hand and forced Severus' arm to fall to his side. She'd never been more angry with him in her life and her hand shook as she pulled open the classroom door.  
  
The students entered the classroom quickly and quietly, a few noticing the less than happy look on Hermione's face.  
  
Once all the students had entered the room and were seated, Hermione closed the door and swept up the right side of the room, closing the supply cabinet with a wave of her hand and stalking into Severus' quarters, all but slamming the door behind her.  
  
Two classes later Severus stormed into the chambers, glaring at Hermione.  
  
"What in _blazes_ is the matter with you?" he asked, standing just beside the table and staring at the back of Hermione's head. Hermione sighed, a hiss through her teeth, and stood, slapping the book she was reading onto the coffee table and turning to face Severus.  
  
"What's wrong with me? First you treat me like a child, then you threaten to fire me, and _then_ you shove me into a wall. I don't know _what_ the hell _that_ was about, maybe some stupid demonstration of control or superiority, but I certainly didn't appreciate it." Hermione took a few steps forward. "I don't know where you think our relationship is going, but it's not going anywhere until you realize that I am no longer your student and I have free will and I will no longer obey your every command." Hermione sighed. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Severus?"  
  
Severus nodded. "I do, Hermione. But do you understand that I can't help but worry about you? I've gotten close to you, and now I don't want to lose you."  
  
"I get that. But don't try to smother me. Alright?"  
  
Severus nodded again. "Oh, and, er, sorry about the wall thing. That was just... stupidity."  
  
"Apology accepted." Hermione touched her chest and frowned.  
  
"What is it?" Severus asked, stepping forward.  
  
"My scar. It twinged... it's never done that before."  
  
"Maybe you should sit down," Severus said, concerned, any trace of anger gone as he took Hermione's arm and guided her into a chair.  
  
"I'm really fine, Severus. Just a nothing pain, it's alright."  
  
"If you're sure." Severus pulled a chair over beside Hermione and sat down next to her, looking down at his hands for a moment. Hermione followed his gaze and stared at his clasped hands. Scarred and calloused, but strong. She reached down and lightly touched his right hand, tracing one of the scars with her finger.  
  
"I saw your scar," Severus finally said, softly. "The other day, when I walked in your room... I didn't see all of it," he added quickly. "Just the bit at your shoulder."  
  
Hermione met his eyes. "Did you want to see it all?"  
  
"Er, well, only if-" Severus stammered.  
  
"It's alright," Hermione said, smiling slightly. She straightened in her seat and unfastened the clasp on her robes, then unbuttoned her shirt, exposing the long red scar running from her right side, at the bottom of her ribcage, to her left shoulder.  
  
Severus stared, intrigued, and extended his hand to touch it before he realized he'd better ask. He pulled his hand back and looked up at Hermione. She nodded.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
He reached forward again and lightly touched the scar where it began, at her ribcage. Carefully, glancing at Hermione again for permission, he ran his fingers along the inch wide scar.  
  
"Does it bother you?" he asked quietly, seemingly mesmerized by the angry looking red line.  
  
"To look at? Not really, not anymore. I've gotten used to it."  
  
"You shouldn't... you don't deserve this," Severus said, shaking his head. Hermione shrugged.  
  
"It's a scar. You've got scars, everyone's got scars."  
  
Severus shook his head again. "No, I chose the path that led to my scars. You didn't."  
  
Hermione shook her head this time. "You didn't choose your life, Severus. Circumstances chose it for you."  
  
"Perhaps. But I chose to participate in the events that hurt me. You... you were taken, against your will, and subjected to Voldemort's sadistic whims, serving a sole purpose of getting to Potter, perhaps even myself. He abused your body and violated your mind, you're not telling me you're okay with that, are you?"  
  
"No, Severus. I'm not okay with it, I'll never be okay with it, but I've learned to accept it. And so should you. What's in the past cannot be undone, at least not without severe consequences." Hermione smiled, looking a little sad. "We'd all like to change the past, Severus, but who's to say we'll like the future we face afterward? There are always consequences for our actions. It's a part of life. And no matter how many ways you think you could've done something differently, in the end, you only did it the way you could at the time. And really, no one can blame you for that."  
  
"How did you get so smart?" Severus asked after a moment of silence. Hermione just smiled and shrugged. Severus stared at her for a moment, then pulled her into a hug. 


	7. Coming apart at the seams

A/N: Here's Chapter 7. Another favorite chapter... reviews would be divine.  
  
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Hermione looked up at Harry as he sat down beside her that night at dinner.  
  
"Where were you at lunch?" she asked as he poured himself some pumpkin juice. Ron looked up, interested as well.  
  
"I had the worst headache," Harry answered, looking strained. "My scar was just throbbing, all during third class."  
  
"You know," Hermione added, "so was mine."  
  
"The one on your chest?" Harry asked, glancing over at her. Hermione nodded and Harry occupied himself for a few minutes, loading his plate with food.  
  
"What could it mean though?" he continued as he cut up his steak. "I mean, Voldemort's _dead_. I saw you and Snape- I saw him die, so it couldn't be him... right?" Harry looked at Hermione, almost as though she could tell him what it really was. But all she could do was shrug.  
  
"I don't see how it could be, but I also can't think of anything else."  
  
"What about his wand?"  
  
Harry and Hermione looked over at Ron.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, leaning back a little so Hermione could hear the answer better.  
  
"Well, was the wand destroyed with the body, or did someone get it that wasn't supposed to? For all we know, Lucius Malfoy could have a new toy."  
  
"But how could _Malfoy_ made our scars hurt? All he's got is the wand," Hermione asked, intrigued.  
  
"Er, well, that wand is the thing that caused your scars, right? That wand is a vital part of what Voldemort was, he killed loads of people with that wand. I imagine that everyone with a scar inflicted by Voldemort directly with that wand felt a twinge earlier today."  
  
"But if Malfoy, or whoever, is using the wand, why wouldn't it have hurt more?" Harry wondered.  
  
"The worst Malfoy could do would be kill a few flies. Maybe a rat. I doubt you would've felt either one, though. Probably killed something bigger. Like a cat."  
  
"How can he have a wand in Azkaban, though?" Hermione asked, sliding forward in her seat slightly. Ron shrugged.  
  
"He's Malfoy. He's slimy enough to find a way. Probably transfigured it into something small enough to stick up his-"  
  
"Ron," Hermione said sharply. He blushed slightly.  
  
"Sorry. But I don't think you guys have anything to really worry about. Malfoy's probably mad by now. Doubt he knows whose wand he has. He'll probably be dead soon anyway."  
  
"Ron," Hermione said again, and his blush deepened. Hermione glanced around the hall and noticed about half the students had finished their dinners and left the hall, as had about a third of the faculty, including Severus. Hermione glanced at the watch on Harry's wrist and stood.  
  
"I think I'll go down to my room. Good night, guys, and Ron? Thanks." Hermione smiled and left through the staff door.  
  
"Thanks for what?" Ron asked, looking at Harry. Harry just shrugged.  
  
"I dunno."

"How's your scar?" Severus asked the next morning after breakfast.  
  
"Fine," Hermione answered as she took the ingredient list from the desktop. "Harry said his scar hurt yesterday, too, and Ron had a very interesting theory as to why."  
  
"Did he?"  
  
Hermione nodded, glancing at the list in her hands. "He thinks that a Death Eater -probably Lucius Malfoy- somehow got ahold of Voldemort's wand and was just playing around with his new toy."  
  
"Hmm," Severus muttered, looking pensive. Hermione continued to stare at the list in her hands.  
  
"Oh, yes, we're out of mandrake root. Do you want me to go down-"  
  
"No!" Snape said abruptly, snapping out of his reverie. "No. I don't want you going back down there. Come here." Severus stood and beckoned for Hermione to follow him.  
  
"I finally restocked my own stores, since we've been having so much, er... trouble." Snape muttered a password to a door nearly hidden in the wall beside a large bookcase and opened it. Hermione followed him into the room. It'd changed since she'd snuck in here in her second year, but she kept her face impassive.  
  
"I hadn't seen the need to keep this fully stocked because I had you as a runner of sorts, but, as I said, seeing the problems we've been having, I felt the need to restock my own stores." Severus strode forward and grabbed the large jar containing mandrake roots and handed it to Hermione, who had already summoned the empty ingredient jar from the classroom. She filled the empty jar quickly and handed the larger jar back to Severus, watching as he replaced the container and then leaving the room, Severus behind her.  
  
Hermione entered the classroom and went about setting out the ingredients for the day's potion.  
  
"So are you and, uh, Weasley back on speaking terms?"  
  
Hermione glanced up at Severus. "I don't know. I'd like to think so."  
  
Severus grunted and Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling slightly.  
  
When Friday finally rolled around, Hermione was grateful for the weekend; the week had been far too long. Severus had decided he didn't need Hermione for his final class of the day, his N.E.W.T. class, and so she was found in the staff garden, engrossed in a book and enjoying the sunshine while two house elves scurried about, tending to the plants that needed tending to.  
  
"Miss?" one squeaked after a while, drawing Hermione from her thoughts. She looked at the small house elf in front of her.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"The bell is to ring soon, miss. Nolly thought you might like to know."  
  
Hermione nodded, marking her place in her book as she stood. "Thank you, Nolly."  
  
The elf beamed up at Hermione, obviously pleased with herself. Hermione smiled and left the garden, slipping the novel into the pocket of her robes and heading for the main steps to the school. She stopped, though, on the third step and frowned, looking over at Ron's class. The students were milling around in an agitated sort of way, their excited, high pitched voices reaching her ears.  
  
"Professor Granger!" a dark haired third year Ravenclaw, if Hermione remembered correctly, called, running towards her.  
  
"Professor Weasley's hurt!"  
  
Hermione followed the girl across the lawn and was almost to the cabin when Professor Weed suddenly stepped in front of her. Hermione cried out, surprised, and nearly fell as she slid to a stop.  
  
"Get out of my way," Hermione hissed, stepping around Weed and running to Ron's side.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked, kneeling down beside Ron, helping him sit up.  
  
"I was on the step stool, getting something out of the tree... a nest. I fell..."  
  
"Does anything hurt? Or did you just get the wind knocked out of you?"  
  
"Wind, yes," Ron muttered, blinking his eyes rapidly. "And my leg, I think I broke it."  
  
"Again?"  
  
"Again? What do you mean, again?" Ron asked, looking offended. "The last time I broke it-"  
  
"-was at the end of our seventh year," Hermione said meaningfully. "Alright, up you get. Push with your good leg, I'm not Superman."  
  
"Who?" Ron asked as she rose to his feet, his right arm tight around Hermione's waist.  
  
"I'll tell you later," she answered, grunting under Ron's weight. When they had straightened and turned to face the school, they saw Professor McGonagall striding purposefully down to the cabin.  
  
"What's happened?" she asked in a clipped tone as she neared them.  
  
"Ron- er, Professor Weasley had an accident. I was just taking him to see Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"Ah, yes, good thinking, Professor Granger. Go on, then," she prodded, shooing students aside so Hermione and Ron could make their way through.  
  
When they reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was waiting and helped Hermione get Ron onto a bed, where Madam Pomfrey quickly healed Ron's leg and checked him over, then declared him healthy, though she recommended he lay down for a little while.  
  
"You want me to stay?" Hermione asked, unconsciously pushing Ron's hair from his face.  
  
"No, you go on to dinner. I'll be down in a few minutes."  
  
"Alright." Hermione smiled and left the hospital wing, heading for the Great Hall. She figured she was alone in the corridor until a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around, shoving her against the wall.  
  
"How's the boyfriend?" Professor Weed said in a low voice.  
  
"Get your hands off of me," Hermione spat, raising her hands to shove his arms down. His grip only tightened, however, and Hermione winced.  
  
"Let go of me," she said slowly, feeling her anger rising.  
  
"What, we're just having a little chat."  
  
"No, you are. I don't care to talk to you. Now let-"  
  
"Just a little note, _Professor_," Weed whispered, changing his tone so that it was much more menacing than before. "Keep your little Mudblood nose _out_ of my business. Understand?" Weed's face was inches from hers and everytime Hermione blinked, images from the fall nearly two years ago flashed before her, making her jump.  
  
"What are you trying to hide?" Hermione murmured, keeping her voice from shaking.  
  
"Nothing you need to know about," Weed hissed, pressing Hermione against the wall a little harder.  
  
"I think you'd do well to let her go," a familiar voice said silkily, the black tip of a wand entering Hermione's line of sight. Weed released Hermione's arms and backed up, eyeing Severus' wand warily. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and rubbed her arms, angry and irritated.  
  
"Perhaps it would be pertinent to remind you of our discussion?" Severus said, his wand still pointed at Weed.  
  
"No need, Professor Snape. I was just leaving," Weed said in a falsely polite voice, his lip curling slightly as he glanced at Hermione. He swished away down the corridor, Severus' wand pointed at his back until he disappeared from sight.  
  
Frowning, Severus lowered his wand and turned to Hermione.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.  
  
"Yeah, bloody brilliant," Hermione grumbled.  
  
"Really, Hermione," Severus said, taking a step forward.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, Severus. And starving. Let's go to dinner." Hermione turned towards the Great Hall, tucking her hair behind her ears with slightly trembling hands.  
  
"Are you sure-" Severus pressed.  
  
"I'm fine, really. It just... scared me a little bit," Hermione admitted as they entered the Great Hall, her voice nearly getting swallowed up in the dull roar of the conversing students.  
  
Severus didn't respond, choosing to just follow Hermione up to the staff table, docking points from Gryffindor as a roll sailed from their table in the direction of the Slytherin one.  
  
Hermione sat down heavily in her seat, staring at her empty plate for a moment.  
  
"Hermione? You alright?"  
  
Hermione looked up at Harry and nodded.  
  
"Yeah, fine," she murmured, sitting up in her seat and reaching for the plate of chicken.  
  
After dinner Hermione and Severus sat, grading as usual, though Hermione seemed to have a significant lack of energy as she sat with her head on left arm, her quill held loosely in her right hand, moving only when she recorded a grade.  
  
"Hermione," Severus began carefully as he placed another paper in her left hand.  
  
"What?" she answered as she scratched the grade beside the proper name and placed on the paper on the stack. A system that used as little energy as possible.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright?"  
  
"Severus, even if I said I wasn't, what could you do about it?" Hermione asked, sitting up straight and pulling up her left sleeve. Severus winced very slightly at the dark bruise that circled the top of her left arm, with darker, finger shaped bruises ont he underside.  
  
"You can make these disappear with a wave of your wand and you can make me forget it happened, but I don't want you to. He scares me, Severus, but it helps me want to hurt him even more. So just let it go and give me the next grade."  
  
Severus stared for a moment, his mouth open slightly, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't, for whatever reason, and then shut his mouth and turned back to his grading."What's this?" Hermione asked a week later as she peered into a simmering cauldron sitting over the burner on the counter in Severus' office.  
  
"I'm trying to recreate that exploding potion," Severus replied, coming to stand next to Hermione.  
  
"How's it coming?"  
  
"Not too well." Severus inserted a dropper into the potion, pulling a little bit of the vivid blue potion into the tube, then placed a drop on the counter, where it popped rather pathetically.  
  
"Oh." Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Well, keep trying, I guess. Lesson plans?"  
  
"On the desk."  
  
Severus worked on the potion for two more weeks until one night he approached Hermione with a vial containing the blue potion.  
  
"Here it is," he said, sounding almost excited. Hermione eyed the vial warily.  
  
"Well, keep it away from me."  
  
"Yes, of course. Apologies." Severus returned to his office and emerged a moment later, a bit of parchment in his hand. "What's this?"  
  
Hermione glanced up. "Professor Weed wants a potion. It's just a protein solution, Severus," she added in response to his dark look. "I told him it'd be ready by Monday."  
  
"Oh, alright." Severus crumpled the note, jamming in the pocket of his robes. "You talked to him?"  
  
"Not really. I made it pretty clear that he'd better hurry up and say what he wanted."  
  
Severus nodded, feeling slightly amused, and headed back into his office to begin brewing the protein solution.  
  
When Monday rolled around, Hermione had completely forgotten about the exploding potion that Severus had successfully created, even though it served an even larger role in her day than she ever would've thought.  
  
"I'll be back shortly," Severus said during their first break between the second class of the day and lunch. "I'm just going to talk to the headmaster."  
  
"Don't say anything stupid," Hermione muttered as Severus kissed her cheek, gave her an admonishing look, and left the room.  
  
Hermione, seated behind Severus' desk in his office, went back to grading the tests, as she insisted she do, because Severus was still a bit harsh with the number of points he took off for wrong answers.  
  
"Miss Granger?" a voice called from the classroom.  
  
"In here," Hermione called back, squinting at an answer and trying to decipher the handwriting. She glanced up as she heard the swish of robes and saw Professor Weed in the doorway.  
  
"Is my potion ready?"  
  
"On the counter," Hermione answered, pointing with her quill and turning back to the tests.  
  
She tried to keep grading but was distracted by Weed's presence.  
  
"Is there something I can help you with, Professor?" Hermione asked in a clipped tone.  
  
"No. I'm leaving. Thank Professor Snape for me."  
  
"Certainly," Hermione muttered as Weed left. She marked a couple more answers and then glanced up at the counter. Something didn't look right.  
  
Frowning, Hermione stood and walked over to the counter. A vial containing a blue poition sat on the counter. The potion, on closer inspection, turned out to be the protein solution. But there was no other blue potion on the counter, which meant-  
  
"Oh, no," Hermione groaned and pushed herself from the counter, running from the office and through the classroom, yanking open the door and running through the corridor and up towards the school entrance. She saw the form of Professor Weed walking out of the castle and called out to him, but he didn't hear her.  
  
"Bugger," Hermione muttered and picked up a little speed. She burst out of the castle and leaped over the steps, hair and robes flying.  
  
"Professor!" she called again as she saw him walking towards the greenhouses. He entered Greenhouse 1 and Hermione raced down to it.  
  
She had nearly reached it when it exploded, the force so much greater than that of the original potion that Hermione was picked up and thrown back, landing very hard on her back, the air whooshing from her lungs.  
  
She lay, stunned, trying to catch her breat, and soon heard excited voices from behind her, teachers coming out onto the grounds. A familiar set of black robes swished past her, along with those of Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, and then two very familiar, very pale faces were looking down at her.  
  
Ron seemed unable to speak as he and Harry helped Hermione.  
  
"Oh, my... are you alright?" Harry asked shakily. "What happened?"  
  
"It was the wrong potion..." Hermione murmured, staring as Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore put out the flames. Severus had left his fellow professors and was now coming towards the trio.  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
"Don't you touch me," Hermione hissed, suddenly very angry with him. Ron and Harry closed protectively around her, glaring at Severus, and guided Hermione back to the school, where Madam Pomfrey was standing anxiously by the doors.  
  
"Come along, dear, come along," she said, her voice higher pitched than usual as she led the way to the hospital wing. She pointed to a bed right under a window and Ron and Harry helped Hermione onto it. Madam Pomfrey then shooed the boys back and drew the curtain around the bed so she could check Hermione over.  
  
"How do you feel?" Pomfrey asked as she helped Hermione out of her robes.  
  
"Like I just hit the ground really hard," Hermione muttered as she unbuttoned her shirt and Madam Pomfrey pulled it off, setting it on top of her robes.  
  
"What're these?" Pomfrey asked beadily, staring at the two faded but still visible bruises on Hermione's arms.  
  
"Nothing. Not important. Am I alright?"  
  
"You seem to be," Pomfrey conceded, though her eyes were narrowed just a bit. "But you should stay overnight. Just in case."  
  
Hermione nodded and finished undressing, slipping on the proffered gown and situating herself in the bed.  
  
Madam Pomfrey withdrew the curtain, then gathered up Hermione's clothes and took them back to her office.  
  
Harry and Ron moved closer to the bed. The color had nearly returned to their faces, though Ron looked slightly sick.  
  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah, just kinda sore."  
  
"I saw the explosion and you fly back," Ron said. "I thought you were... you know, when you didn't move..."  
  
"Me, too," Harry added in a small voice.  
  
There was a flurry of activity by the door and Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked over as Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape entered the infirmary.  
  
"We'll come back," Harry promised, and he and Ron left, giving Severus a wife berth. Severus, in turn, looked like he was having difficulty maintaining his persona of snarky potions master and wanted nothing more than to give Hermione a hug and a kiss.  
  
McGonagall looked as pale and shaky as Ron and Harry had, and even Dumbledore's usually cool demeanor had slipped.  
  
"So glad to see you're alright, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as the three teachers approached Hermione's bed.  
  
"Yes. Quite fortunate," McGonagall agreed, sounding throaty.  
  
"I need to ask, Miss Granger," Dumbledore began, pulling up a chair beside Hermione's bed and sitting down, "what happened."  
  
"The greenhouse exploded," Hermione answered, frowning slightly.  
  
"Yes, but what led to it?" Dumbledore asked patiently.  
  
"Oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry. Professor Weed came into Professor Snape's office to pick up a potion he'd asked for, a protein solution. He picked up the wrong potion, a potion Professor Snape had been trying to recreate, the one that blew up in his chambers a couple of weeks ago. Anyhow, I didn't notice it until Professor Weed had already gone and I tried to stop him, but I couldn't catch him in time and, well..."  
  
Dumbledore nodded and placed a reassuring hand on Hermione's arm.  
  
"Thank you, Miss Granger. That's all for now. Severus, if I could speak with you in my office?"  
  
"Of course, Headmaster. I'll be there in a moment."  
  
Dumbledore waved a hand in assent and left the hospital wing, Professor McGonagall trailing behind.  
  
"Hermione," Severus began, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Anger surged through Hermione's body like an electric current and Severus pulled his hand back as though he'd been shocked.  
  
"We'll talk later," Hermione said softly. Severus nodded and left the room, heading for Dumbledore's office.  
  
He reached the gargoyle and spoke the password - Canary Cream - and stepped onto the revolving staircase.  
  
He rapped on the door and pushed it open, entering the office. Dumbledore was standing at the window, staring out at the destroyed greenhouse.  
  
"Headmaster?"  
  
Dumbledore looked up and smiled slightly. "Ah, Severus. Sit down?"  
  
Wordlessly Severus took a seat and watched Dumbledore move to his desk and sit down.  
  
"You know I would never make a direct accusation, but after hearing what you had to say about Professor Weed today, I can't help but wonder-"  
  
"I did not deliberately set those potions beside each other as a means to get rid of Weed, if that's what you're saying."  
  
"Yes, of course. One cannot help but wonder, however."  
  
Severus nodded. "If that's all-" He made to stand but Dumbledore held up his hand.  
  
"Wait a moment, Severus. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you."  
  
Severus settled back into his seat and stared at Dumbledore.  
  
"I've been watching you and Miss Granger for a while now and I couldn't help but notice a... well, a change in your relationship. Call me a silent spectator."  
  
"What- what exactly are you getting at, sir?" Severus shifted slightly in his seat.  
  
"Come, Severus. Hermione ended her relationship with Mr. Weasley, and then she was on uneven ground with Harry as well. I may be old, but I'm not blind; only you can cause such a rift between three friends such as they are."  
  
Severus decided to take this as a compliment and sat up straigher. "Miss Granger and I-"  
  
"Severus." Dumbledore had that annoying twinkle in his eye and Severus sighed.  
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake... alright, yes, Hermione and I are, well, together. Is that a problem, sir?"  
  
"On the contrary, Severus. I think it's quite a smart match. I do. But make sure you're kind and fair with her. She's not the type of person to put up with too much of your... well, you."  
  
Severus smirked. "As I've discovered."  
  
Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "Do understand, Severus, you need her more than you realize."  
  
Severus nodded, though he wondered what Dumbledore was on about with the cryptic crap again.  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Yes, I do believe so."  
  
Severus stood, internally marvelling at how strange the headmaster continued to get.  
  
"Oh, Headmaster," Severus said as he opened the door, "were you and Minerva able to recover the, er... body?"  
  
The troubled look returned to Dumbledore's face.  
  
"No, Severus. We couldn't find it."  
  
"Yes... well, good day, sir."  
  
Hermione slept through the night and well into the next morning, waking at lunchtime. Madam Pomfrey, seeing Hermione awake, bustled over to the bed and checked Hermione over rather thoroughly.  
  
"How do you feel?" Pomfrey asked, taking Hermione's pulse.  
  
"Hungry."  
  
"Oh, good. I'll get some house elves up here, you can eat, and then you can return to your room."  
  
Hermione nodded and Madam Pomfrey left the room. A moment later, two house elves appeared holding a tray with a covered plate on it and a pitcher of pumpkin juice, which they magicked up onto the rolling table for Hermione. She thanked them and they bowed, disappearing with two loud pops.  
  
Hermione uncovered the plate and smiled slightly at the sliced turkey, mashed potatoes, and green beans, with a roll on the side. Plus the pitcher of pumpkin juice.  
  
Hermione ate slowly, hearing the sound of kids in the hallway and wanting out of the hospital very badly all of a sudden.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione called when she finished eating. The nurse came out of the office and walked to Hermione's bed.  
  
"Can I leave now?"  
  
"Hmm," Pomfrey murmured, checking Hermione's pulse again, and then her temperature.  
  
"Yes, you can go. You seem alright. I'll get your clothes." Pomfrey left and returned a moment later, pulling the curtain around Hermione's bed so she could get dressed. Hermione reached in her right pocket and felt her wand, letting out a relieved sigh and pulling open the curtain, leaving the infirmary and heading down to her room.  
  
Her spirits sank, however, as she walked along, as the students walked past her, giving funny looks and whispering to each other. By the time she reached her room she was thoroughly depressed again and she muttered her password, pushing open the door and shuffling into the room. Even glancing at her still brightly fresh flowers didn't raise her spirits and she stripped off her clothes and put on her nightshirt, then crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head.  
  
Severus opened the door between their rooms a few hours later and looked at the lump that was Hermione. He approached the bed and gently grasped the edge of the sheets, pulling them down to show Hermione's face.  
  
"Go away," she muttered.  
  
"What's wrong?" Severus asked. Hermione frowned.  
  
"I'm still mad at you."  
  
"Why?" Severus asked, bewildered.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it right now. Now go away." Hermione grabbed the sheets from Severus and pulled them back over her head.  
  
Snape looked at her for another moment, feeling bemused, and then left the room.  
  
After sleeping so much the last two days, Hermione awoke early on Wednesday but didn't feel like going to the Great Hall for breakfast. She took a bath, thoroughly washing her hair and scrubbing her skin until it was bright red, then got out of the tub and wrapped her bathrobe around her body, padding back into her room to see a house elf sliding a tray onto her desk.  
  
"Professor Snape sends Nolly to bring you breakfast, miss."  
  
"Thank you, Nolly," Hermione said, smiling slightly at the elf, who bowed and disappeared.  
  
Hermione ate as much as she could and neatly set the dishes together to make it easier on the elves, then got dressed, pulling her hair back and fastening it with a clip, leaving the room as she did and walking to Severus' office. He looked up at her as she entered.  
  
"Do you want me to teach today?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
"Severus, just tell me."  
  
"No. Just assist."  
  
Hermione nodded and took the lesson plan from Severus, walking into the classroom to set out the ingredients for the day.  
  
She and Severus didn't talk much until their break before lunch, when Severus approached Hermione in the study.  
  
"Why are you mad at me?" he asked carefully.  
  
"Because of Monday," Hermione answered shortly, her back to him.  
  
"What about Monday?"  
  
"Did you deliberately set that potion out so he would take it?" Hermione asked, turning to face Severus.  
  
"No! Of course not!" Severus answered, sounding indignant for probably the fifth time in his life. "I know we had problems, but I didn't want him to die. At least not yet..."  
  
Hermione glared at him.  
  
"Is that all?" Severus asked, feeling confused.  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, go on, then."  
  
Hermione breathed deeply through her nose and looked up at Severus.  
  
"Do you have any idea what it was like, lying there on my back, trying to breathe, wondering if I was dead or alive, and watching you run by without even looking at me? Do you know what that felt like?"  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
"Ron and Harry were the first to see if I was alright. Granted they're my best friends, but it should've been _you_."  
  
"Hermione, I had to check... it's my _job_," Severus said, taking a step forward, trying to reason with her.  
  
"Screw your job!" Hermione shouted. "I could've _died_, Severus. Remember what you said? Your reputation wouldn't mean a damn thing if I was dead. That could've been Monday. And you ran right past me." Hermione's hands shook, clenched tightly around the book she was holding, her knuckles white.  
  
"Remember what _you_ said, about appearances being everything?" Severus countered, rather insanely. Hermione slammed the book down on the table.  
  
"That's irrelevent! Your first priority should've been me. I'm still your assistant, Severus, remember? Weed was dead, no one could've survived that explosion, you knew that, you knew that the moment you saw the flames and the remains of the greenhouse." Hermione's eyes were bright as she glared at Severus. "What are we, Severus? Are you so ashamed of our relationship that you can't even show you care enough to make sure I'm alive? What is it, Severus, what are we?"  
  
"Damn it, Hermione, I love you!" Severus finally yelled. Hermione's eyes widened slightly in surprise and Severus sighed, moving forward to hold on to the back of a chair.  
  
"I love you," he said again, softer this time, and glanced up at Hermione. "I saw the explosion from Dumbledore's office, and the moment it happened, I thought about you, and then I _saw_ you fly through the air and it scared me to death. I was scared to look at you, Hermione. I was scared that you were dead and I didn't want to see it, because if I had looked and if you had been dead, I would've lost it right there. I couldn't do that."  
  
"Had to save face, huh?" Hermione said, trying to keep her anger going but finding it rapidly dissolving.  
  
"Stop it, Hermione. You're not angry anymore, so stop trying to be."  
  
Hermione closed her mouth, tears sliding down her cheeks.  
  
"You love me?" she asked finally, sniffling.  
  
"Yes. I do."  
  
"I love you, too." Hermione stepped around the table and hugged Severus, resting her cheek on his chest.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
"Hmm?" He was playing with her hair now.  
  
"Did they find the body?"  
  
Severus' hands froze in Hermione's hair and she knew the answer. 


	8. Stay with me, dance with me

A/N: Okay, I think the end of this chapter is my favorite one... heh. I think y'all will like it to. What you're probably gonna think happens... happens. nods And for the record, Henry's little rant on American witches... I have nothing against Wiccans or anything of the sort... so don't get any wrong ideas... okay, on with the reading

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Under normal circumstances, Hermione's mind would've been clear and trouble free, but not knowing whether or not Weed was really dead was rather damaging to her psyche.  
  
She was having nightmares again, though this time they starred Weed, always hurting someone she loved and always laughing at her.  
  
Some nights the dreams were so bad that she would wake Severus, and he'd come into her room and wake her up and calm her down, staying with her until she fell asleep again and then quietly returning to his own bed.  
  
A couple of weeks after Weed's supposed death, Hermione dragged herself into Severus' office and wearily sat down in the chair.  
  
"Hermione, you look terrible," Severus said, looking at the dark circles under her eyes, and feeling concern.  
  
"I don't get any sleep with these nightmares," Hermione murured, stifling a yawn. "I'm so tired, but everytime I close my eyes to sleep, he's there..." Hermione trailed off, an almost feverish glint in her eyes.  
  
"That's enough of that, then," Severus said decisively, standing and throwing some Floo powder into the fireplace and stepping into it. He emerged a moment later with a bottle.  
  
"Dreamless sleep. Come on."  
  
Hermione got to her feet and followed Severus into his bedroom.  
  
"Sleep here, so I can keep an eye on you."  
  
Hermione nodded and kicked off her shoes, the idea of finally getting some sleep so appealing she felt no urge to argue. Severus handed her a glass containing a bit of the potion and she drank it down, then got into bed. She vaguely felt Severus kiss her cheek as she drifted off to sleep.  
  
Hermione slept all day, through lunch and dinner, and well into the night. Severus didn't have the heart to wake or move her, and so he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep.  
  
He woke a few hours later and stared at the ceiling. He rubbed the kink in his neck that had awoken him and sat up, yawning and stretching, then stood and headed for the bathroom.  
  
When he came out, he glanced over at Hermione. He could hear her now, talking and moaning in her sleep. The potion was wearing off, or rather the dreamless part of it.  
  
Severus walked over to the bed and reached out to touch Hermione's shoulder. The second he did, though, she screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed and startling Severus. He recovered quickly and grabbed her shoulders, holding her firmly and calling her name.  
  
Her eyes finally snapped open and she stared at Severus for a moment.  
  
"Severus," she breathed. "Oh, God, you were dead!" she gasped, throwing her arms around him and holding him tightly, as though making sure he was really there and solid.  
  
"No, I'm here, I'm alright," he said softly, waving his hand; a few candls flickered to life, illuminating the room slightly.  
  
"He killed you... and Harry and Ron... and damn near everyone!"  
  
"Hermione, just breathe for a moment and listen to me."  
  
Hermione sucked in a deep breath and her shaking stilled slightly.  
  
"I know you don't believe Weed is dead. Neither do I. But the rest of the school does, and I don't think Weed would risk his neck by showing up here."  
  
"What-"  
  
"I'm telling you this because you need to relax. You're going to make yourself sick, not sleeping and worrying all the time. He can't hurt you here, not now, so just relax. For your own sake."  
  
Hermione nodded. "You're right. It's just hard... I'll try though."  
  
Severus nodded. "Go back to sleep." He made to stand but Hermione grabbed his arm.  
  
"Stay here?" she asked softly. Severus nodded slowly and sat back down.  
  
"Alright." He waved his hand and the lit candles extinguished themselves, then he lay down, getting comfortable. Hermione settled herself next to him, resting her head on his chest. He smiled slightly and ran a hand through her hair, kissing the top of her head.  
  
Hermione awoke in the morning, feeling rested for the first time in weeks, and rolled over in bed, facing into the room. Severus was already up and Hermione smiled, relishing in the memory of the feeling of Severus' arms around her and how safe he'd made her feel.  
  
Sighing, she dragged herself from her thoughts and out of bed, heading for her room to get dressed. She found Severus in his office and he smiled when he saw her, one of his rare full smiles.  
  
"You look better," he said, handing her the lesson plan for the day.  
  
"Thank you," Hermione murmured.  
  
"For what?" Severus said, turning back to his grading.  
  
"For everything, the potion, and staying with me last night. I just-"  
  
"It was nothing, Hermione. I care about you, I love you," Severus replied softly, looking up at Hermione.  
  
"I love you, too." She smiled and backed out of the office, heading into the classroom.  
  
"Hermione," Severus called just before class was to begin.  
  
"Yeah?" she called back, shrewdly eyeing the amount of armadillo bile she was pouring into a jar.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey wants to see you. Now, preferably."  
  
Hermione sighed, screwing the lid on the jar and sending it over to the last table.  
  
"Alright." She wiped her hands with a rag and left the classroom, heading up to see the nurse. The students regarded her with a bit more warmth than before and Hermione was in high spirits when she reached the hospital wing.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey?" she called, wondering if a year would ever go by where she wouldn't have to spend time in the infirmary.  
  
"Ah, yes, hello, dear. I just wanted to check on you, what with everything that's been happening. You're feeling alright?"  
  
"At the moment, yes."  
  
"I take it the potion worked alright? You look much more rested," Pomfrey said, taking Hermione's pulse.  
  
"Yes, very well. Thank you."  
  
"And I imagine Severus is taking good care of you?" Pomfrey asked meaningfully, glancing up at Hermione out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"You know?"  
  
"Dear, all of the staff knows. My, how your pulse has quickened." Madam Pomfrey laughed a short laugh. "Really, Hermione, no one objects, and the students don't know. Never seen an odder match, myself, a Slytherin such as Severus Snape and a Gryffindor such as yourself, but I imagine it'll turn out highly beneficial."  
  
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, trying not to laugh.  
  
"Oh, call me Poppy, you're not a student anymore."  
  
"Alright then, Poppy. May I go?"  
  
"Yes, you seem fine. Have a nice day, dear."  
  
"You, too." Hermione grinned as she left. Maybe the nurse wasn't so bad after all.  
  
Hermione spent the rest of the day helping Severus during classes and stealing kisses in between, a mark of how much better she felt.  
  
"I'm going for a walk," she said that night after dinner. Severus looked up at her.  
  
"Around the school?"  
  
"Just through the halls. I won't be gone long."  
  
"Be careful."  
  
"Always." Hermione smiled and left the room, deciding to head to the kitchens for a snack. She shooed the house elves away and walked to the refrigerator. Absently she held out her hand and a bowl floated towards her, landing on her palm. She loaded it with fruit and closed the door, turning to leave the kitchens and promptly running in Lavender. Hermione jumped back a step, dropping the bowl of fruit; gasping, she reached for the bowl and it froze in mid-air. Hermione stared at it a moment, glanced up at Lavender, then quickly grabbed the bowl, smiling widely.  
  
"Oh, hi, Lavender. You startled me."  
  
"I noticed," Lavender replied, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry."  
  
"What're you doing down here?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Actually, that," Lavender answered, pointing at Hermione's bowl of fruit.  
  
"Oh, well, there's plenty more," Hermione said, pointing behind her.  
  
"Okay, thanks."  
  
Hermione nodded and smiled slightly as Lavender walked around her and Hermione continued on towards the door.  
  
"Um, Hermione?"  
  
"Yeah?" Hermione turned at the door, looking back at Lavender.  
  
"Can we talk?"  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Got anything better to do?" Lavender said, grinning slightly.  
  
"No, I guess not."  
  
"C'mon, " Lavender said, adding a final strawberry to her bowl and then walking out of the kitchens, Hermione in tow. They reached Lavender's office in a far shorter amount of time than Hermione had expected. Lavender noticed Hermione's surprise and cleared it all up as she opened the door.  
  
"I had Professor Dumbledore move my office. I hated being up there by myself all of the time. It got lonely." Lavender opened the door to her living quarters and ushered Hermione inside.  
  
"You still have classes up in the tower, though, right?" Hermione asked, sitting in a rather comfortable chair; it looked like one of the ones from the Divination classroom. Lavender busied herself as she answered Hermione's question, preparing tea.  
  
"Yeah," she answered, poking the kettle with her wand. A jet of steam issued from the spout and Lavender picked it up and brought it over to set on the coffee table. Hermione poured the tea as Lavender sat.  
  
"But I've started Flooing between here and the classroom," Lavender admitted sheepishly, picking the seeds from the silce of melon in her hands. Hermione grinned.  
  
"I don't blame you. How have you been, Lavender?" Hermione asked, changing the subject. "Are you still friends with Parvati?"  
  
"Oh, yes. I spent Christmas break with her. It's a little lonely here, though, not too many people to really talk to."  
  
"I'm sorry, Lavender," Hermione said, genuinely troubled that the girl didn't have more friends at the school.  
  
"Oh, it's not your fault, Hermione. I know you've been busy, I don't expect you to come up and visit me."  
  
"I can make the effort, though, Lavender. I'll try," Hermione responded, popping a grape into her mouth.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione. And how are you?" Lavender asked carefully. "I mean, after the explosion and everything."  
  
"I'm fine," Hermione answered, sipping her tea. "I had bad nightmares for a while, but, um, they're gone now."  
  
"Did Professor Snape help you with that?"  
  
Hermione looked at Lavender. The question wasn't asked to be prying, just curious.  
  
"I know about you and him, Hermione. I think all the teachers do. I'm not judging you. I think it's an odd choice, especially after the way he treated you and Harry and Ron during school, but you know him better than anyone, I'd imagine, working with him for two years."  
  
Hermione nodded. "You'd be surprised."  
  
"I did a tarot reading after I found out. About you two, I mean."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow over the rim of her teacup.  
  
"He loves you, Hermione, I saw that..." Lavender trailed off, a troubled look in her eyes.  
  
"But?" Hermione prodded.  
  
"Be careful, Hermione."  
  
"As a general rule, I try to be," Hermione said, wondering where this was going.  
  
"I just worry that he may... I don't know, betray you or something."  
  
"Lavender, please-"  
  
"I know you've never held much store in divination, Hermione, but I think tarot cards are a bit more reliable than crystal balls."  
  
"Or tea leaves," Hermione murmured, taking a swig of tea.  
  
"Yes. Only... Hermione, just watch out for yourself." Lavender stared furtively at Hermione, who nodded.  
  
"I hear you. I will. Thank you." Hermione downed the rest of her tea and stood, grabbing her bowl of fruit.  
  
"I should be heading back now. Thank you for the tea."  
  
Lavender smiled and nodded. "You're welcome." She watched Hermione leave, then grabbed her empty cup and stared into it, biting her lower lip as she did, looking increasingly fretful.

Hermione sat in the classroom the next day, grading tests. Severus had gone off somewhere, but would be back soon.  
  
When the door opened, Hermion looked up, expecting Severus, but her smile faltered as three men she didn't recognize came into the classroom and approached the desk.  
  
"Hermione Granger?" the one in front said in an authoritive tone.  
  
"Y-yes?" Hermione stammered, setting her quill down.  
  
"Come with us," the man in front said, his hand moving to his pocket. Hermione knew he was reaching for his wand, and decided not to give him the opportunity to use it.  
  
"Alright," Hermione said, standing and putting the tests in the top drawer of the desk, away from prying eyes. She looked back up at the man in front, who was obviously the leader of this little pack, and noticed a rather ugly scar that ran from the outside corner of his left eyebrow to his left earlobe. Not that she was any stranger to large, ugly scars, but at least hers wasn't visible to the general public.  
  
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, walking around the desk and standing in front of Scarface, as she now thought of him.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore's office. Let's go."  
  
Hermione led the way out of the classroom, Scarface on her right side, Tweedledum and Tweedledee on her left side and behind her.  
  
As they approached the doors leading out of the school, Scarface and Tweedledum grabbed her arms, forcing her into the turn she was already taking.  
  
"Excuse me?" Hermione said, looking up at Scarface, feeling annoyed.  
  
"Can't have you running."  
  
"Why would I run if I haven't done anything?"  
  
Scarface remained silent and Hermione scowled.  
  
When they approached the gargoyle, Hermione muttered the password and the gargoyle moved to reveal the revolving staircase. Tweedledum released Hermione's left arm, as the staircase was wide enough for only two people to stand side by side, and stood back with Tweedledee. Scarface kept a firm grip on Hermione's right arm as they stepped onto the staircase. It carried them to the office door, which Scarface knocked on and then opened, pulling Hermione into the room.  
  
"...going on, Albus?" Severus was saying as the foursome entered the room. He looked over at them and his eyes flashed when he saw the hand clenching Hermione's arm.  
  
"Get your hands off of her," Severus snarled, reaching for his wand and Hermione at the same time. Scarface released Hermione's arm and Severus pulled her towards him, standing slightly in front of her.  
  
"I do believe I permitted this... inquisition on the basis that you would harm neither Severus or Hermione," Dumbledore said evenly, his eyes hard. Over the years his mistrust of Ministry officials had increased tenfold and he was loathe to let any of them into Hogwarts.  
  
"Inquisition?" Severus said, zeroing in on the word. His eyes narrowed. "What are we being questioned about?"  
  
Scarface opened his mouth to speak but Dumbledore silenced him with a look.  
  
"The death of Professor Weed is apparently still under investigation-"  
  
"-and you two are the prime suspects," Scarface interrupted, eliciting a stern glare from Dumbledore.  
  
"If anyone is at fault, it's me," Severus said. "Hermione had nothing to do with it."  
  
"She was in your office, was she not?"  
  
Severus sneered at Scarface. "She is not responsible for the potions I make nor the state of my office, _sir_." The last word dripped with condecension and Scarface's cheek twitched.  
  
"Perhaps we should continue in a slightly more appropriate setting?" Dumbledore offered, standing.  
  
"I want to talk to them seperately," Scarface said.  
  
"No," Snape said shortly. "You talk to both of us at the same or neither one of us. And Albus stays as well."  
  
"Seperately, or you both go to Azkaban."  
  
Severus fell silent and glanced back at Hermione, who had been watching the exchange silently. She nodded and Severus sighed.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"I would, however, like to sit in," Dumbledore said firmly and turned, opening a door behind his desk and walking through, Severus following close behind. Scarface turned just before he walked in.  
  
"Stay with her," he said to Tweedledum and Tweedledee. They nodded and Scarface disappeared into the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
Hermione crossed the room and sat down in a chair beside the window.  
  
"Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione looked up at Tweedledum.  
  
"We wanted to apologize for Dave," he said. "He's a bit of a hardass. We didn't want to come here, but we weren't given much of a choice."  
  
"Are you two partners or something?" Hermione asked warily.  
  
"Kind of. We always get placed together. Dave just wanted us because we're big."  
  
Hermione smiled slightly. "What're your names?"  
  
"I'm Henry and he's Patrick."  
  
Patrick smiled and waved.  
  
"Can't he talk?" Hermione asked carefully.  
  
Patrick shook his head and Henry answered her question.  
  
"He lost his vocal chords in a nasty duel with a Death Eater. St. Mungo's couldn't fix it, and Patrick seems happy."  
  
Patrick nodded, giving Hermione a thumbs up.  
  
"I'm sorry, though, that sounds terrible."  
  
Patrick shrugged and picked up his wand, casting a spell into the air. Words appeared, floating: I'm over it.  
  
"It's a special wand. Prototype," Henry said in response to Hermione's puzzled look at Patrick's wand. "It's only available to those who can't say spells properly."  
  
"Oh, okay." Hermione smiled.  
  
"I'm sorry if I hurt you when I grabbed your arm. Dave watches Muggle television. Too many cop shows."  
  
"I've heard America is worse," Hermione said, shifting in her seat slightly so she was facing Henry.  
  
"It is."  
  
"You've been?" Hermione sat forward in her chair. "What was it like?"  
  
"Crowded and noisy. I was in New York City."  
  
"Oh," Hermione said, understanding.  
  
"They have witches over there who are very vocal about being witches, but they're not real witches. Spouting nonsense about reaching spiritual planes or something. They use herbs, but not to make potions. And they don't have wands." Henry shuddered. "I can't imagine being without my wand."  
  
Hermione nodded. "I understand what you mean."  
  
"And their president doesn't seem too bright. But I was able to visit one of the American wizarding schools, an old chum of mine is the headmaster. Fascinating place."  
  
"I'd love to visit sometime."  
  
"I'll tell my friend. He loves having foreign visitors, he enjoys making them speak for his classes."  
  
"I'd enjoy that."  
  
Henry smiled. "Good. Oh, and I know a little secret about the American president."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows as Henry stepped closer.  
  
"He's a Squib. He comes from a pureblood line, but something unfortunate happened somewhere along the line and every child produced has been a Squib."  
  
Hermione grinned. "Very interesting."  
  
The door behind Dumbledore's desk opened and Severus stomped out, looking highly agitated.  
  
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said gently. Hermione stood and followed Dumbledore into the room.  
  
He gestured towards one of the chairs and Hermione sat. Dumbledore took the chair beside her. Hermione stared across the table at Scarface.  
  
"Well?" she said impatiently.  
  
Scarface glanced at his notes. "You and Weed had a less than agreeable relationship."  
  
Hermione shrugged. "We didn't get along, yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
She shrugged again. "I didn't like him from the moment I saw him. I don't know _why_ exactly, I just didn't."  
  
"Were the feelings reciprocated?"  
  
"Yes. We had a few arguments."  
  
"Arguments? About what?" Scarface looked interested and Hermione scowled at him.  
  
"I believed that he was somehow responsible for the death of my father."  
  
"How could he be responsible?"  
  
"I don't know," Hermione snapped.  
  
"Had he ever met your father?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then why-"  
  
"Can we move on?" Hermione asked irritably.  
  
"Hang on a minute. These arguments, did they ever get physical?"  
  
"He bruised my arms a few times when he would grab them," Hermione said, shifting in her seat. Dumbledore twitched slightly beside her, as though this revelation bothered him. "And... I hit him once. But that was the only time I ever touched him."  
  
"Hmm," Scarface murmured. Hermione glanced at Dumbledore; he looked troubled.  
  
"Okay, so let's move on."  
  
"Good," Hermione muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"Why did you kill him?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, straightening in her seat and unfolding her arms, staring at Scarface. He stared coldly back.  
  
"Why did you kill him? It just seems a bit extreme to kill someone because you only suspected that he had something to do with the death of your father. Or even because he gave you a couple bruises."  
  
"It was more than a couple, and I haven't killed anyone," Hermione said angrily, leaning forward and resting her hands on the table.  
  
"You killed Voldemort."  
  
Hermione stared at Scarface in disbelief. Even Dumbledore looked as though he thought Scarface was mad.  
  
"If I hadn't, your pompous ass would probably be dead, you arrogant son of a bitch."  
  
Hermione rarely swore so vehemently, but she was particularly upset at the moment.  
  
"You could've prevented his death," Scarface said as though Hermione hadn't spoken.  
  
"I probably could have, but I admit I was negligent because of my feelings toward Weed. Had I been paying more attention, I could've stopped him sooner. But I was also unaware that the offending potion was on the counter, and easily accessible. But I have killed no one." Hermione stood. "We're done."  
  
"No, actually, we're not. Sit down, Miss Granger."  
  
"No." Hermione pushed her chair under the table and Scarface stood, pulling his wand out, pointing it at Hermione. In a flash, Dumbledore had adopted the same position, his own wand pointed at Scarface. But the man seemed to've forgotten Dumbledore was even in the room.  
  
"I refuse to let one filthy little Mudblood get away with murder," Scarface hissed, raising his wand.  
  
He was blasted against the wall by a jet of golden light from Dumbledore's wand; the old man's blue eyes flashed like blue flames.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I should've ended that sooner." Dumbledore looked at Hermione, his brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, yes, I'm fine. I'm used to it by now, sir."  
  
"Unfortunately," Dumbledore murmured.  
  
Hermione stared at Scarface's slumped form. "Is he-"  
  
"No, he's alright." Dumbledore sighed and looked at Hermione again. "You and Severus can leave. I'll finish talking to David when he wakes."  
  
"Alright. Thank you, sir." Hermione smiled slightly and left the room.  
  
Severus was livid when they returned to the classroom and he dismissed the class that was waiting.  
  
Hermione followed him into his room, staring at him as he turned to face her.  
  
"I can't believe he said that to you. And Dumbledore just sat there!"  
  
"Like I said before," Hermione said slowly, closing her eyes, "he didn't just sit there."  
  
Severus muttered something and turned away from Hermione, who sighed.  
  
"Severus, please calm down."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you're pissing me off and giving me a headache."  
  
"Leave then!" Severus shouted, rounding on Hermione. She winced and glared at Severus a moment, then turned and headed for her own room, where she extinguished all light and lay down on her bed, feeling tears in her eyes. It wasn't Severus, though his yelling at her had hurt a little bit. It was the memory of her father, memories Scarface had dredged up. She wished he was still alive so she could talk to him about everything that was happening.  
  
Hermione sniffled and turned on her side, wiping her eyes.  
  
"Hermione?" Severus said a minute later, pushing open the door slowly. "I'm sorry-"  
  
"I'm not crying over that, if that's what you're thinking," Hermione muttered, still facing the opposite direction.  
  
"Oh. What is it, then?"  
  
Hermione felt Severus sit down on the bed and she sighed.  
  
"I miss my dad. Scarface kept mentioning his death and it just brought everything back."  
  
"Bastard," Severus muttered. Hermione rolled over and looked up at him.  
  
"What all did he ask you?" she said, wiping her eyes again and studying what little bit of Severus' face she could see in the light coming through the open door.  
  
"If I'd killed Weed, how long you'd been my assistant, how long you and I had been together... he seemed rather focused on our relationship. Wanted to know why I'd chosen to date a former student."  
  
"What did you tell him?"  
  
"It was none of his business, and to go to hell."  
  
Hermione smiled slightly. "Why _did_ you choose to date a former student?"  
  
"I already told you, Hermione," Severus said, smiling slightly and brushing a curl from Hermione's forehead.  
  
"I know. Tell me again."  
  
"Because I fell in love with you. Because you're brilliant and beautiful and patient with me. Because you chose me first."  
  
"Gryffindor bravery, that's what that was. I had to be brave to kiss you first." Hermione grinned and Severus laughed.  
  
"You laughed," Hermione said softly. "I've never heard you really laugh."  
  
"It's nothing to go crazy over," Severus said, bemused.  
  
"I think it's beautiful," Hermione said, sitting up and placing a kiss on Severus' lips.  
  
"I love you," she said quietly.  
  
"I love you, too.""Interesting word choice," Hermione said the next morning as she reviewed Severus' lesson plan.  
  
"What, my plan?"  
  
"No," Hermione said, laughing. "Scarface. He used the word 'date'?"  
  
"Yes, he did." Severus looked up at Hermione. "Why?"  
  
"Well, it struck me, the fact that you and I have never actually had a date."  
  
"That's true," Severus said slowly, eyeing Hermione.  
  
"Severus, I find it very hard to believe that you don't have a clue what I'm talking about." Hermione grinned and Severus shifted in his seat.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't want to disappoint you."  
  
"How would you disappoint me?" Hermione asked gently.  
  
"I'm not exactly the most charismatic person."  
  
Hermione actually laughed out loud and Severus looked startled.  
  
"Severus, all you and I have had for the past five months is each other. A date won't change how I feel about you. And I think you have lots of charisma, anyhow."  
  
Severus smiled. "Alright. How about tonight? Right after the last class."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Alright, it's a date."  
  
As soon as the final class was over, Hermione and Snape headed down to Hogsmeade, where they Apparated to downtown London. When they reached Diagon Alley, Hermione removed her cloak to reveal dark blue dress robes, slightly fitted, held together at the waist with three silver clasps. A black dress could just be seen underneath.  
  
Hermione busied herself transfiguring her cloak into a small bobby pin, which she fixed in her hair, eyeing her reflection in a window.  
  
"Ready?" she asked, turning to Severus. She laughed when she saw him staring at her. "What?"  
  
"I just... you're beautiful," he said. Hermione smiled, slipping her arm through his.  
  
"You're not so bad looking yourself."  
  
Severus smiled and he and Hermione started down the street.  
  
"So where are we going again?" Hermione asked.  
  
"A restaurant down near Gringotts. Small, but cozy. I think you'll like it."  
  
They reached the restaurant and were seated, Hermione gazing around the room.  
  
"This place is great, Severus. But, and no offense, how exactly do you know about it?"  
  
Severus smiled slightly. "I've never actually come in here, but I've seen it. I thought you would like it."  
  
"I do, thank you for bringing me."  
  
The sounds of a string quartet floated towards their table and Severus looked thoughtfully at Hermione.  
  
"Do you want to..." Severus trailed off and Hermione smiled.  
  
"Dance? I'd love to."  
  
Severus stood, extending his hand to Hermione; smiling, she took it and allowed him to lead her to the small dance floor already occupied by three other couples.  
  
Severus took Hermione's right hand in his left and placed his right hand on her waist, pulling her close.  
  
"You're good," Hermione murmured.  
  
"My mother taught me. Part of her effort to turn me into a gentleman."  
  
"I'd say she did rather well."  
  
"Some part of my life I didn't fail at."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Severus, we've talked about this-"  
  
Severus silenced her with a kiss, surprising her.  
  
"Here's another part I didn't fail at."  
  
Hermione stared at him a moment, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again.  
  
After dinner, Severus and Hermione ventured back into Muggle London.  
  
"Where to now?" Hermione asked.  
  
"If it doesn't seem too forward, I'd like to show you where I live during the summer. Since we're in London anyhow."  
  
"Alright."  
  
When they reached the apartment, Severus opened the door with a password instead of a key and led Hermione inside.  
  
"It's kind of small," she said, looking around.  
  
"I'm only one person. I don't need a lot of space."  
  
"Guess not," Hermione said, laughing slightly.  
  
"Do you want anything?"  
  
"No, I'm fine."  
  
"Okay." Severus walked over to the cabinet and fiddled with something a moment; soon, music filled the room.  
  
"Etta James?" Hermione looked at Severus in surprise.  
  
"Not all Muggle music is bad." Severus approached Hermione. "Dance with me."  
  
"So assertive now," Hermione murmured as Severus pulled her close, much closer than in the restaurant.  
  
"This is nice, I like this."  
  
"Hermione, can I tell you something?" Severus said.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"Talking is highly overrated," he replied, pressing his lips to Hermione's and kissing her slowly.  
  
"You're so full of surprises tonight," Hermione whispered when he pulled away, her breath hitching slightly in her throat.  
  
"Hermione?" Severus murmured.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do be quiet," he said, kissing her again. Hermione finally became silent, leaning into the kiss. Severus' hands moved to the clasps on Hermione's robes; he unfastened them, pushing the robes from her shoulders, revealing the simple black dress beneath.  
  
"I'm not being too forward-"  
  
"Severus, shut up," Hermione said breathlessly, pulling Severus to her and kissing him again. 


	9. Don't close your eyes

"Did you enjoy the weekend?" Severus asked on Monday as Hermione sat on the couch during their second break, grading.  
  
"For the thousandth time, Severus," Hermione said, laughing as she looked up, "_yes_."  
  
"I just don't want you to have any regrets," Severus replied, coming around the couch to look at Hermione.  
  
"And I don't," Hermione said gently, reaching up and pulling Severus down to her. "I love you, remember?"  
  
"Yes, okay, okay," he said, laughing slightly as Hermione kissed him.  
  
"We should do it again," Hermione said thoughtfully.  
  
"Okay," Severus said, taking the papers Hermione was holding and dropping them on the coffee table. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed.  
  
"Not that," she said, giggling and placing a hand on Severus's chest. "Though it's not a bad idea," she added as he kissed her slowly. "I meant another date."  
  
"Whatever you want."  
  
Hermione smiled up at Severus, who was positioned with his hands on either side of her, on the bed.  
  
"What?" he said, grinning in a bemused way.  
  
"Nothing." Hermione kissed him, then genlty pushed him back. "Class is starting soon."  
  
"Damn little ingrates," Severus muttered, standing up straight and looking disgruntled.  
  
"Even so," Hermione said, standing and straightening her robes, "it's still your job to teach them."  
  
"It's also your job to assist me." Severus arched an eyebrow in Hermione's direction and she sighed.  
  
"I know, I know." She walked over to the coffee table and picked up the scattered papers. "But it's kind of hard when you're dating the professor." She grinned impishly and Severus chuckled.  
  
"Go grade," he said, pointing towards the door to the classroom.  
  
"Sure don't mind giving me orders though," Hermione muttered in mock irritation as she opened the door.  
  
She graded the last paper as the bell rang for the students to be in class and stood, heading to open the door.  
  
Severus came in as the students were taking their seats and rifled through the papers on the desk. He nodded minutely, a sign of approval, and Hermione smiled slightly as she shut the door after the final student, a fourth year Hufflepuff.  
  
"You all did well enough on the last assignment," Severus said, beckoning Hermione forward so she could pass the papers back. "You will notice that Professor Granger has taken the liberty of writing the chapters, assignments, and potions you should review for your final exam. Do not make her hand cramp in vain. I recommend you make the effort to study, as I will be grading your final and not Professor Granger, as I'm sure most of you were hoping, meaning you will not have the cushion of a kind teacher to fall back on. There will be a sufficient break in today's lesson for you to copy the review, but for now, pay attention."  
  
The rest of the week passed as the first week of May tended to: furtive studying and after dinner tutoring. The latter made it rather difficult for Severus and Hermione to spend any real time together until Saturday night, when they could be found on the couch, otherwise occupied.  
  
Severus had just begun unfastening the buttons on Hermione's shirt when a familiar voice called Hermione's name from the classroom.  
  
"Severus, wait a minute," Hermione said, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away.  
  
"Hermione, it's only Weasley," he said, in a tone that came very close to whining. "Tell him to come back. Like next year."  
  
"It'll just be a minute. I won't be gone long." Hermione stood and walked to the door, buttoning her shirt as she did.  
  
"Ron?" she said as she opened the door and entered the classroom. He turned to look at her, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Hey. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."  
  
"Er, not really," Hermione said, figuring the anything that Ron was thinking of wasn't the anything that she'd actually been doing. "What's up?"  
  
"I was just wondering if you wanted to meet me tomorrow in Hogsmeade."  
  
Hermione stared at Ron a moment. "Why couldn't you wait to ask me tomorrow?"  
  
"Because I only just got up the nerve to ask you now," Ron replied, smiling slightly.  
  
"Well, alright."  
  
"Really? Great, meet me in the Three Broomsticks at one."  
  
"Okay. Good night, Ron."  
  
"'night, Hermione."  
  
Hermione watched Ron leave, and then went back into Severus's bedroom. He was still on the couch, waiting for her.  
  
"Is he gone?" he asked as Hermione walked back over to the couch.  
  
"Yeah," she answered, sitting down.  
  
"Good. Now where were we?"  
  
"About here," Hermione said, pulling Severus down on top of her as she lay back on the couch. He grinned and kissed her, setting about unbuttoning her shirt again.  
  
With a bit of coaxing and promising she wouldn't be gone more than two hours, Hermione left to meet Ron the next afternoon in Hogsmeade.  
  
He was waiting in the Three Broomsticks and waved her over to where he was sitting. She made her way over to him, getting a Butterbeer from the bar as she did.  
  
"Thanks for meeting me," he said, standing as she approached the table.  
  
"No problem, though I thought Harry might be here as well."  
  
"Oh, well, I only asked you," Ron said as they sat. Hermione eyed him as she took a sip of her drink.  
  
"I hope this isn't an effort to try to get me back," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly.  
  
"No, of course not-"  
  
"Good."  
  
"-but now that you mention it..."  
  
"Ron, no!" Hermione exclaimed, setting her glass down with a thunk. "This is not why I agreed to come here!"  
  
"Hermione, please, give me another chance. I can change, whatever you want. Please."  
  
"Ron, stop it. I don't want you to change. I like you how you are. But how you are and how I am... we're just not right for each other. I'm sorry, but you need to move on."  
  
"I suppose you and Snape are right for each other," Ron muttered. Hermione sighed.  
  
"Don't start."  
  
"I don't understand it, Hermione," he said, looking up at her. "What could you possibly see in that great git?"  
  
"Damn it, Ron, I'm sick and tired of your narrowmindedness. The war changed everyone. You, me, Harry. It changed Severus, too. And if you'd take the time to get out of the ditch you've dug for the past nine years, where there is only the past as it happened and the future as you see it, you might see that."  
  
"You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"  
  
"What has that got anything to do with anything?" Hermione cried.  
  
"You are, aren't you?" Ron pressed, jealousy twisting the features Hermione once found adorable.  
  
"It's none of your damn business, but if you must know, yes."  
  
"Probably since before we broke up, huh?" Ron muttered nastily.  
  
"Actually, no. I never cheated on you, Ron. Unlike you," Hermione said softly. Ron looked up sharply and Hermione nodded ruefully. "Yeah, Ron. I know it happened."  
  
"How long?"  
  
"Since it happened."  
  
"How did you find out?"  
  
"It doesn't matter. The point is it happened, and I knew about it, and I stayed with you. It might not've hurt so much if she hadn't been a fifth year."  
  
"Hermione, I'm sorry-"  
  
"It's too late for that, Ron. I don't care anymore. It's not my job to care anymore. But I won't take you back." Hermione stood. "That little girl? She graduates this year. Why don't you wait for her?" Hermione grabbed her mug and deposited it on the bar as she left. She decided to seek refuge in her favorite book store to calm herself down before heading back up to the castle. She ended up buying three books before she left.  
  
She deposited her books in her room when she returned to the castle and started towards Severus's room when she heard shouting coming through the door.  
  
"Oh, no," she groaned, hurrying forward and pulling open the door.  
  
Ron and Severus stood at opposite ends of the room, shouting at each other. Hermione didn't stop to listen to what they were saying, but saw Ron going for his wand and beat him to it, firing a loud blast into the room. Both men looked at her, momentarily surprised.  
  
"I don't know what this is about," Hermione began loudly, though she had a good idea, "nor do I care, but it ends now. Ron, you need to leave. I already told you, it's over."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Out!" Hermione shouted. Ron flinched and pocketed his wand, finally accepting defeat and leaving the room.  
  
"And you!" Hermione cried, rounding on Severus.  
  
"Me? What did I do? He's the one who came in here, shouting at me as though he were insane."  
  
"And you urged him on."  
  
"So?"  
  
"I do not need my ex-boyfriend and my current one fighting over me."  
  
"He instigated the whole exchange," Severus said mulishly. Hermione glared at him.  
  
"I chose you, Severus. Don't make me regret it."  
  
Severus sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."  
  
Hermione sighed and jammed her wand in her pocket. Severus took a step towards her.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Ron. I'm worried about him."  
  
Severus blinked. "You're... what?"  
  
"It's been five months since he and I broke up and he hasn't gotten over it yet. He just seems so..."  
  
"Pitiful?" Severus offered disdainfully. Hermione frowned at him.  
  
"Desperate," she finished softly.  
  
"Well, he's not really your problem anymore," Severus said, stepping closer to Hermione.  
  
"Of course he is, he's still my friend," she said, looking up at Severus.  
  
"Let Potter sort it out, he's his friend, too."  
  
"You know, Severus," Hermione said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes briefly, "it would be a sign of respect to me if you would refer to my friends by their first names." She opened her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, turning away from Severus.  
  
"Alright, let Harry sort it out," Severus amended, pausing briefly before saying 'Harry'.  
  
"It's not his problem," Hermione muttered.  
  
"It shouldn't be yours either!" Severus cried, frustrated. Hermione stared at him a moment.  
  
"I didn't break up one fight to start another. I'm going for a walk."  
  
Hermione cut through her bedroom out to the hallway. She made her way through the castle, smiling at a few students who spoke to her and soon finding herself at Lavender's open office door. She knocked on the door frame as she stepped into the room. Lavender looked up and smiled.  
  
"Hey, Hermione. Come on in. I'm just grading dream diaries," Lavender said as Hermione sat down.  
  
"They may not hold the key to the future, but they do hold the key to the subconscious. And I'm seeing lots of stressed subs."  
  
"Exams are coming up," Hermione said, shrugging. Lavender nodded.  
  
"True. So what's up?"  
  
"Ron," Hermione replied, sighing and slumping in her seat. Lavender raised an eyebrow and closed her office door with her wand.  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"He asked me to meet him in Hogsmeade today, at the Three Broomsticks, where he practically begged me to take him back. And then I came back to the school and he and Severus were having a row."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"I don't know, probably me," Hermioen said, sighing again. "It's just weird. Five months, and I thought he was fine, or at least over it."  
  
"Apparently not. What're you gonna do?"  
  
"I don't know. I want him to move on, find someone else."  
  
"What about that girl he cheated on you with in our seventh year?" Lavender suggested snidely. Hermione snorted.  
  
"No. He needs someone his own age, for one thing." Hermione stared at Lavender a moment and her eyes slowly lit up. "Hey, Lavender."  
  
"What?" Lavender looked up at Hermione and realization dawned. "Hermione, no."  
  
Hermione slid forward in her seat, nodding eagerly. "C'mon, Lavender, it won't be that bad."  
  
"I can't date Ron when he's still... pining for you!" Lavender exclaimed desperately.  
  
"You don't have to date him. Just be his friend. Take his mind off of me. Please, Lavender?"  
  
"Hermione Granger, I don't think I've ever seen you beg. I don't like it." Lavender frowned, then sighed. "Oh, alright. I'll talk to him, buddy up to him. But you owe me, Granger."  
  
"Of course. Thanks, Lavender."  
  
"Oh, don't mention it. Please," Lavender grumbled. Hermione grinned.  
  
"Done anymore tarot readings on me and Severus lately?"  
  
Lavender's quill slipped ever so slightly and she looked up at Hermione.  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. "Just curious."  
  
"Actually, yes." Lavender set her quill down, looking apprehensive. "Er, has Professor Snape asked you to stay with him this summer?"  
  
"No. Why, Lavender? What did you see?" Hermione asked gently.  
  
"I've done three tarot readings since I talked to you. I even read your tea leaves after you left that night," Lavender said, laughing nervously.  
  
"What is it, Lavender?"  
  
"If you stay with Professor Snape this summer, I'm afraid something bad will happen to you..."  
  
"Lavender, even I know tarot cards are slightly clearer than that. How bad?"  
  
"I'm afraid you'll die," Lavender said bluntly. Hermione stared at her.  
  
"What... how?"  
  
"There was sadness and despair running rampant in the reading. Plus the Death Card."  
  
"Did you see anything more about the betrayal you mentioned?" Hermioen asked hesitantly.  
  
"Yes, Hermione."  
  
"But... no, this is ridiculous. Severus wouldn't betray me. He loves me."  
  
"I know he does, which makes me think that some outside force will have an effect."  
  
"That's impossible..."  
  
"Hermione, if he asks you to spend the summer with him, don't. Tell him no."  
  
"No... this is ridiculous, Lavender. Severus wouldn't let someone talk him into betraying me, the only other person he'll listen to besides me is Professor Dumbledore, and I really doubt he would convince Severus to betray me." Hermione stood. "I can't believe I let you tell me all this. I don't believe in this, you know that."  
  
"Hermione, I was just hoping-"  
  
"I know, but... I can't believe it." Hermione stared at Lavender, her brow furrowed. "I'm gonna go. You'll talk to Ron?"  
  
Lavender nodded, watching Hermione with a concerned look.  
  
"Thanks, Lavender. I'll, uh, talk to you later."  
  
Lavender nodded again, sighing as she watched Hermione leave.  
  
Hermione found herself avoiding Lavender all week, consequently not noticing the absence of Ron at meals.  
  
Unfortunately Hermione couldn't avoid Severus all week, at least not like she could Lavender, and he finally cornered her on Saturday, forcing her back on the couch and standing over her.  
  
"Alright, Hermione, what's going on?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest and staring down at her.  
  
"What do you mean?" she squeaked, shifting on the couch. Severus moved to block her escape.  
  
"You've been acting strange all week. Making sure we're never in the same room together alone, which means I never get to see you except during class and at meals. And so I ask, what's going on?"  
  
Hermione remained silent and Severus sighed.  
  
"Are you... afraid of me or something?" he asked.  
  
"Well, you are, uh, kind of intimidating, standing over me like that."  
  
Severus unfolded his arms, his expression clearing.  
  
"Oh. Er, sorry." He moved from in front of her to sit beside her. "Now will you tell me what's wrong?"  
  
"It's just... I was talking to Lavender..." Hermione paused, avoiding Severus's eyes and picking at her nails. Severus reached forward and grabbed her hands after a moment of her fidgeting and Hermione sighed.  
  
"You would never... let someone talk you into... I don't know, betraying me or anything, would you?" Hermione raised her eyes to look at Severus; he looked rather taken aback and was silent a moment.  
  
"Did Miss- er, Lavender tell you this?" he said finally. Hermione nodded.  
  
"This is you've been trying to avoid me?"  
  
"Well, yes, but-"  
  
"Hermione, you know that divination is the least reliable form of magic. Why would you let her talk you into believing something so ridiculous as that?"  
  
"Normally I wouldn't, but she's done four tarot readings on us, and they've all had the same result. She said-"  
  
"Ah. 'She said'. How do you know she's not just making it all up?"  
  
Hermione frowned. "Why would she do that?"  
  
Severus shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't like you and me together. I wasn't the most popular teacher when you were students, if you hadn't noticed."  
  
"I find it very hard to believe Lavender would lie to me," Hermione said, still frowning. "But I guess you're right about the other bit. It's just that when she told me, I got so flustered."  
  
Severus nodded. "Divination has that sort of effect on some people, I've noticed. But I will give Lavender a bit of credit, as she's not so bent up over 'seeing beyond' and all that mess as Trelawney was. Rest her soul," he added, glancing skyward, a gesture that made Hermione smile.  
  
"And now I can ask you what I've been wanting to ask you all week."  
  
"And that would be...?"  
  
"Where are you planning on staying this summer?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. "I think I'm gonna sell the house and buy an apartment."  
  
Severus shook his head. "Why don't you stay with me?"  
  
"At your apartment?" Hermione asked, Lavender's warning ringing rather annoyingly in her ears.  
  
"No, you're right, it's too small for two people. I was thinking Snape Manor."  
  
"You... you have a manor?"  
  
"It's been in the family for centuries, but I stopped going there years ago. I thought you and I could maybe work on cleaning it up a bit?"  
  
"Er..." Hermione shifted slightly in her seat.  
  
"You can still sell your house, if you like. You can even buy the apartment. But stay with me? Just for the summer?"  
  
"Severus, I don't know... can I think about it?"  
  
"Of course. But I hope you're not still worried about those ridiculous cards." Severus eyed Hermione closely.  
  
"No, of course not," Hermione lied. She sighed. "Let's just go to bed."  
  
But Hermione couldn't sleep and she lay awake well into the night, even after Severus had fallen asleep ad now she stared up at the dark canopy. The grandfather clock's face glowed quarter past three. Hermione sighed and then jumped as Severus let out a grunt and turned over in his sleep. She sighed again.  
  
She had to stop thinking about that stupid prediction; it was nothing. She had a reputation for disputing divination, ever since she'd walked out of Trelawney's class in her third year. She imagined Harry and Ron laughing at her if they found out she was losing sleep over a silly tarot reading; then she remembered she hadn't spoken to either in a rather long time.  
  
Hermione looked over at Severus's sleeping form and smiled slightly. No. Lavender was wrong. Severus would never betray her. She would stay with him this summer.  
  
Satisfied with herself, Hermione turned so she was up against Severus's back, draping her arm over his side. Lulled by his even breathing, Hermione fell asleep, smiling as she felt his hand close around hers.

June arrived with warm breezes and sunny days but also with exams rearing their ugly heads. Hermione found herself escorting hysterical fifth and seventh years to the hospital wing, trying to calm them down along the way.  
  
"You'll do fine," she told one upset fifth year Gryffindor girl.  
  
"That's easy for you to say, I heard all Outstandings! And besides, Snape makes me so nervous, always walking around, criticizing everyone's potions."  
  
"He won't be at the exam, don't worry about that. And who's to say you won't make all Outstandings?"  
  
"I'm nowhere near as smart as you."  
  
"Sure you are. Don't be so hard on yourself."  
  
Hermione left the grumbling girl with Madam Pomfrey and headed back to the potions classroom, entering as the bell rang and making her way to Severus's desk through the departing students.  
  
"How is Miss Roberts?" Severus asked, straightening a stack of papers and handing them to Hermione.  
  
"Better by now, I assume."  
  
"Good." Severus leaned over and gave Hermione a quick kiss.  
  
"What're these?" Hermione asked, looking down at the papers in her hands.  
  
"First year written exams. I want you to proof them for me."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"I believe your efforts at palming Mr. Weasley off on Miss Brown are working," Severus said as they walked into his room.  
  
"I am not trying to _palm_ Ron off on Lavender," Hermione said haughtily as she sat down on the couch. Severus raised an appraising eyebrow.  
  
"Oh? Then what do you call it?"  
  
"An attempt to get Ron to focus his adoration on someone more deserving than me."  
  
Severus snorted rather indelicately as he sat on the other end of the couch.  
  
"Well, whatever you choose to call it, I think it's working. I noticed this morning at breakfast Miss Brown switching places with Professor Vector to sit beside Mr. Weasley."  
  
"Well, good. I won't feel as guilty now."  
  
"I would rather think you'd feel guilty about subjecting Miss Brown to the lovesick bemoanings of that redheaded fool."  
  
"Ha," Hermione muttered sardonically. "Quite the sense of humor you've got on you now."  
  
Severus grinned slightly and Hermione scowled at him, looking back at the parchment in her hands. He knew she hated when he teased her, but he couldn't help himself; it amused him so.  
  
He stood and gently kissed the top of Hermione's head before heading to his office.Before long, the exams were over, with every student passing their potions exam after a fair number of arguments between Hermione and Severus.  
  
The leaving feast was now upon them, with Gryffindor winning the House Cup, much to the pleasure of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lavender, as the four of them clapped and cheered rather exuberantly. Severus had adopted a sour expression, though Hermione suspected some of it may've been a show for the sullen Slytherin table.  
  
And then the students were gone the next morning, on the train back to London.  
  
Hermione helped Severus go through the Slytherin house, common room and dorms, to check for forgotten items.  
  
"Well?" he asked when Hermione emerged from the girls' staircase. She held out her hands, exposing a scarf, hat, and a handful of partnerless socks. Severus snorted.  
  
"What?" Hermione said, laughing slightly as she stuffed the items into her pockets.  
  
"Well, it would only make sense that the two years I find a female to search the girls' dormitories, she finds socks and scarves, but every year I've done it alone, I've found things I could've gone without seeing."  
  
Hermione giggled. "I found plenty of those things, I just chose not to show them to you."  
  
"Thank Merlin for that." Severus sighed and he and Hermione left the house, depositing the lost items in a box just outside the portrait leading into the common room.  
  
"Are you packed?" Severus asked as they entered his room.  
  
"Nearly."  
  
"Well, finish so we can get out of here."  
  
Hermione shook her head and walked into her room where she busied herself for the next half hour, folding her clean clothes and placing them neatly in her trunk, and tossing her dirty clothes into her carpet bag.  
  
As she looked around the room for anything she might've forgotten, her gaze landed on the flowers, still in their bowl on her desk.  
  
Smiling slightly, she walked over and lightly touched the petals. She didn't see how she could possibly take them with her, and resolved herself to plant rose bushes at the manor.  
  
Sighing, Hermione lifted the preservation charm and sadly watched her roses wither.  
  
She quickly disposed of the dead flowers and poured the stale water down the drain, wiping out the bowl and sticking it back under the sink.  
  
"Severus," she said, walking into his room, "have you seen my other pair of shoes?"  
  
"There's a pair under the bed," he said, pointing. He looked up from his book. "Are you packed?"  
  
"Once these shoes go in my trunk, yes," Hermione answered, kneeling on the floor and lifting the dust ruffle. She spied her shoes and summoned them to her, catching them and getting to her feet.  
  
Back in her room she tossed the shoes in the trunk, then locked and levitated it, her bag on top, moving it to the corridor, where Severus met her, levitating his own trunk in front of him.  
  
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Great Hall. Dumbledore has a little... trinket he likes to give the staff at the end of the year. It's really a Portkey, set to each teacher's destination."  
  
"How come I didn't get one last year?" Hermione asked, frowning.  
  
"Because no one told you about it."  
  
"Gee, thanks," Hermione said wryly, giving Severus a look. He shrugged.  
  
"You have other friends, it's not my fault they didn't tell you."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and concentrated on her trunk. They approached the Great Hall and Hermione and Severus set their things by the doors, heading for the staff table.  
  
"Ah," Dumbledore said as they arrived, "and now we wait for... Professor Potter, so glad you decided to join us."  
  
"Sorry, sir," Harry said, jogging to the front. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Quite alright." He paused, gazing around at the assembled teachers. "Another year over. And so we part for summer enjoyment. I look forward to seeing each of you next year." He beamed at them, then reached into his pockets and produced, with a flourish... bookmarks. Hermione raised her eyebrows and Severus snorted softly beside her.  
  
When Dumbledore reached them, smiled meaningfully and handed them each their bookmark. Hermione glanced down at hers and frowned slightly. _Love through pain. Forgiveness through betrayal._  
Hermione looked up sharply, but Dumbledore had already moved on, and Severus was tugging on her arm.  
  
"Comtemplate the cryptic later, let's go."  
  
Hermione followed Severus to the door, where she placed her bag on her shoulder and grasped the handle of her trunk. A couple of minutes later she felt the tell tale jerk at her navel and was soon deposited on a rather brown patch of grass. She dusted her clothes off and turned around, squinting against the sunlight as she gazed up at the house in front of her; her mouth dropped open as she stared, thinking that manor was rather the correct term for it.  
  
"Impressive, no?"  
  
Hermione turned to see Severus dusting off his own clothes and smiling at her.  
  
"Yes, it is. You lived here?"  
  
"Until I bought the apartment."  
  
"It's awfully big for one person."  
  
"It was too big for three people, but such is the Snape dynasty." Severus levitated his trunk with a bit of a frown. "Come on."  
  
Hermione did the same to her trunk and followed him through the squeaky gate and up to the large front door.  
  
Severus placed his wand tip in a small hole next to the door and Hermione heard a series of clicks as locks unlocked.  
  
But that clearly wasn't all as Severus carefully ran his finger through a complicated pattern carved into the wood just above the doorknob.  
  
"We liked our privacy," Severus said. "For future reference, this door is easier to push than it is to pull." To demonstrate this, he pressed his shoulder against the door and pushed. Slowly it gave, creaking as it opened.  
  
Severus made a sweeping gesture with his hand, inviting Hermione to step inside. She carefully did so, her trunk hovering in front of her.  
  
Severus followed her inside and waved his hand; at once the drapes flew open, flooding the room with the early afternoon sunlight.  
  
Hermione blinked rapidly and soon the room came into focus.  
  
A grand staircase ascended to her right, leading to the second floor, with a solid silver banister. The floor was flawless black tile and Hermione felt a little thrill as she looked down, feeling as though she was standing in open space. The drapes, as well as the carpeting on the stairs, were dark green.  
  
"I can tell you're just dying to explore. We'll take our things upstairs and then I'll show you around."  
  
Hermione nodded and followed Severus and her trunk up the stairs and to the right, past a series of closed doors until Severus stopped and opened one of them.  
  
"This would be my room," he said, leading the way.  
  
"It's dark," Hermione murmured.  
  
"Er..." Severus strode quickly across the room and yanked open the curtains.  
  
The room was bathed in light, revealing a space quite larger than Hermione had imagined, and she gasped.  
  
"This is your _room_?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"It's just... awfully depressing."  
  
"Well, that's partly why you're here."  
  
"Partly?" Hermione grinned slightly as she crossed the room to Severus. "What's the other part?"  
  
"I couldn't stand to spend the summer without you," Severus murmured, pulling Hermione to him. She smiled and kissed him.  
  
"Works for me."July was spent cleaning the main parts of the house they actually used, including Severus's bedroom, which Hermione chose to redecorate herself.  
  
By August, the walls were a rich burgundy, as were the sheets. The floor was wood and the drapes matched the walls, but had gold detailing. The furniture was all in the same place as before, the bed against the wall opposite the door, the bookshelves lining the left wall and the dresser on the right.  
  
"You've turned my room into a Gryffindor hovel," Severus said slowly, gazing around at the finished product.  
  
"Oh, I did not. It just so happens these colors go well together. Besides, the room just feels warmer."  
  
"Well, yes, but..." Severus trailed off, eyeing the drapes.  
  
"Will you at least _try_ to get used to it?" Hermione asked, her spirits falling.  
  
"Yes, of course, I'll try. Come on, let's go eat lunch," Severus said quickly, ushering the crest fallen Hermione from the room and down to the kitchen.  
  
The first couple of weeks of August saw Hermione planting flowers, in the front and back of the house.  
  
The third week in August, Hermione was kneeling in the dirt in front of the house, planting her rose bushes.  
  
"There are easier ways to do that, you know."  
  
Hermione looked up at Severus, shielding the sun from her eyes.  
  
"Yes, well, a little manual labor next hurt anyone." Hermione paused, surveying Severus. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, taking in his black slacks and dark green shirt.  
  
"Diagon Alley. I'm picking up a few supplies, for when term starts."  
  
"Oh, could you get-"  
  
Severus waved a dismissive hand. "I already know what you need."  
  
Hermione made a face and Severus laughed.  
  
"Don't stay out here too long."  
  
"I won't. Have fun."  
  
Severus rolled his eyes and Disapparated.  
  
Grinning, Hermione got to her feet and stretched, then brushed her hands and jeans off. She admired her roses, pleased that she was adding some color to the dreary house front.  
  
"Miss?"  
  
Hermione turned, slightly startled, and saw an elderly man standing just outside the black wrought iron fence.  
  
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you had a telephone I could use? My car broke down, just down the way."  
  
"No, I don't, I'm sorry."  
  
The man gave her a strange look.  
  
"We're updating the house," Hermione added.  
  
"Oh, well, thank you anyway," the man said, nodding slightly and turning to leave.  
  
"Oh, but wait," Hermioen said. The man turned back and looked at her. "Won't you come inside, for some water at least? It's awfully hot out here."  
  
"Thank you. You're very kind."  
  
Hermione smiled and unlatched the gate, swinging it open enough for the man to slip through, then closed and relatched it.  
  
She walked up the steps and through the open front door.  
  
"If you'll just wait here, the kitchen is downstairs," Hermione said, looking back at the old man. But the old man was gone and the face Hermione saw made her heart stop.  
  
"Oh, God," she whispered as he raised his wand. Too surprised to react, Hermione was Stunned, thrown back against the wall, and falling to the floor hard.  
  
When the spell was lifted, Hermione lay still a moment, the cold that was radiating from the floor and through her clothes indicating a stone floor beneath her.  
  
She was snapped into full awareness, her heart climbing into her throat as she was forcibly reminded of her time in the dungeon room at Godric's Hollow. She sat up slowly, half expecting to see Voldemort slip from a dark corner.  
  
"He's dead," she reminded herself firmly, placing a hand to her throbbing head.  
  
A footstep made her look up and she shrank back, away from the man standing above her.  
  
"You're supposed to be dead, too," she said.  
  
"Yes, well, obviously I'm not."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why else? To mess with your head."  
  
"Why are you targeting me?" Hermione asked, sliding her hand around to her back pocket for her wand.  
  
"This actually isn't about you, Miss Granger. And it's not there."  
  
"What's not there?" Hermione's hand froze on her hip.  
  
"You wand, dear." Weed shook his head and turned away from Hermione. She slowly got to her feet, staring suspiciously at Weed.  
  
"What're you waiting for?" she asked.  
  
"Dear old Professor Snape. Why is it you ask so many questions?"  
  
"Human nature," Hermione muttered, staring around the room. She remembered Severus showing it to her and telling her that it used to be a dueling chamber, where his father and uncles would duel with the men who were the fathers of Voldemort's eventual legion of Death Eaters. He had told her she had no reason to come in here, and she had been more than happy to oblige, as the room had looked creepy then and it looked especially creepy now.  
  
Growing increasingly anxious without her wand, Hermione finally summoned it from Weed's hand.  
  
He turned to her, surprised, and she held up the wand.  
  
"Stay away from me," she whispered.  
  
"You think you're the only one with powers, little girl?" Weed sneered and waved his hand, landing Hermione on the hard floor and sending her wand clattering away.  
  
"Damn nuisance," he muttered, casting Crucio on Hermione. She screamed as the blinding pain consumed her body, screamed until her throat was raw and Weed lifted the curse.  
  
"Now you just lay there and shut up."  
  
Hermione felt no desire to talk, much less move, and so she did lay there, until she heard Severus calling for her in the house.  
  
"Call for him," Weed said in a low voice. Hermione remained silent, debating with herself as to whether or not she should cooperate. Weed pointed his wand at her.  
  
"Call for him," he said again, dangerously.  
  
Hermione sighed and called out to Severus, frowning and swallowing hard in an effort to soothe her sore throat.  
  
Weed smiled slightly, seemingly satisified, and then, as though it were an afterthought, he delivered a swift kick to Hermione's abdomen.  
  
Her eyes widened and she cried out, tears springing to her eyes as she curled into a ball, clutching her stomach.  
  
Grinning sadistically, Weed stepped back into the shadows and waited.  
  
"Hermione?" Severus called again, closer this time. She tried to call back, but as she took a breath, pain shot through her stomach and she cried out again.  
  
Severus appeared in the balcony, looking down at Hermione.  
  
"Hermione?" His expression was bewildered for a moment, and then he was running down the stairs to her.  
  
"Hermione, what's happened? What's wrong?"  
  
"Him," she murmured.  
  
"Him? Him who?" Clarity dawned in Severus's eyes. "Wait..."  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Here."  
  
Severus looked up in time to be blasted away from Hermione. He rolled a few times and jerked to a stop, facing Hermione and Weed, who had his wand out and a malicious grin on his face.  
  
Severus got to his feet, pulling his own wand from his pocket.  
  
"How did you do it?" he asked, taking a step forward.  
  
"Do what? Easily trick your foolish little Mudblood lay here? Or fake my own death?"  
  
"Both," Severus said, clenching his wand and his jaw.  
  
"Well, both were quite easy," Weed said, beginning to walk slowly around Hermione, keeping his wand trained on her.  
  
"I knew you would recreate the potion, simply because you had to prove you could. And I knew your arrogance would prompt you to leave it out. _And_ I knew she wouldn't pay enough attention to me to notice I took the wrong potion at the time, but that she had enough humanity to come running after me when she realized I had grabbed the wrong potion. And I waited until I knew she was close enough and I threw the potion into the greenhouse and ran into the Forest. Worked rather wonderfully, I feel."  
  
"And getting in here?" Severus continued, echoing Weed's circling.  
  
"Ah, that's the beautiful thing behind _all_ of this. You see, Severus, I'm a Metamorphmagus."  
  
Severus frowned deeply, both at the use of his name and this revelation.  
  
"I merely transformed into a doddering old man and relied on her hospitality. But the best part... oh, Severus, you'll love this. _This is not my original form._" Weed stopped moving and slowly transformed before Severus.  
  
When he had finished, Severus's wand arm slowly fell to his side and he blinked, once, twice. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He swallowed and tried again.  
  
"D-dad?" He stepped closer, staring at the man he hadn't seen for almost forty years.  
  
"Hello, son."  
  
Hermione stared, frightened, at Severus. He looked so surprised and so hurt. She started to scoot back towards the wall, away from the two men.  
  
Severus's father noticed, however, and cast Crucio on her again, smiling as though he was having the time of his life.  
  
"No!" Severus cried, horrified, sending his father back, away from Hermione, who lay, shaking and crying, breathing heavily. Severus knelt beside her and looked up at his father.  
  
"Why are you here? Now?" he demanded.  
  
"I've been following you for years, Severus," his father said as he got to his feet. "I was rather proud when I discovered you had joined the ranks of Voldemort, although imagine my disappointment when I found out you turned traitor and went back that Muggle and Mudblood lover extraordinaire, Albus Dumbledore. But I told myself to let it go. And then I heard that you had saved _her_ life, sacrificing your own life for that of a lowly _Mudblood_, and ended up in St. Mungo's for all your trouble, thought never to return to the living world. She took her place and then, miraculously, you came back, and you and girl wonder there killed the most brilliantly minded man since Grindelwald."  
  
"And Hitler," Hermione muttered, snorting as she struggled to sit up.  
  
"And you two began working together, as partners, far too close for my comfort. I couldn't allow someone like her to ruin the line that myself and all those before me tried to hard to protect. And so when I heard Dumbledore was looking for a new professor, I jumped at the chance, creating Weed and his whole life. And I watched you, and I watched her, and I saw, even if you didn't, how much you really liked her. And I thought that I could hurt you by hurting her."  
  
"So you did kill my father," Hermione said, glaring at him.  
  
"Not directly. I just gave him a nudge in the right direction. I was actually going for both of your parents, but things didn't quite work out the way I planned. I had to whisper little secrets into your mother's ear to prompt her to follow your father's path."  
  
Hermione made to stand, anger surging through her body, but Severus held her down.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"But try as I might, I couldn't make her leave, and unfortunately you fell in love with her." Severus's father sounded as though he'd just tasted something foul. "I saw it before anyone. I tried to kill her with the potion, but that clearly didn't work. It wasn't nearly as strong as yours, Severus, I'll give you that. And when I found out she was trying to uncover things about me... well, I couldn't let that happen."  
  
"But, wait... the letter from Mr. Weasley-"  
  
"Arthur Weasley never got your blasted letter. There would be nothing to find, but you always seem to find out things you're better off not knowing. And so I faked my death to give you a false sense of security, to let you think I was really gone so you would drop your guard. But I still found ways to find out things, and discovered you were coming here. I love what you've done to the place."  
  
"But why hurt her to get to me? Why not just come to me directly?"  
  
"You brought her into this situation, Severus. You had the chance to send her away, and you didn't. And now we're really going to have fun."  
  
"You've gone mad," Severus murmured, helping Hermione to her feet."  
  
"Perhaps. But no matter." Severus's father raised his wand, pointing it at Severus, who, given no time to defend himself, suddenly felt as though his mind had been wiped clean.  
  
Somewhere he heard Hermione's voice, faint, calling his name, and his father's voice, stronger, louder, telling him to hit her, to hurt her.  
  
And then he was himself again, but something was horribly wrong. Hermione as on the floor again, looking at him as though she didn't know him, her lip split and her cheek beginning to bruise already.  
  
Severus felt sick as he realized what he'd done and he took a step towards Hermione, but his father stopped him.  
  
Hermione watched as Severus started towards her again, urged on by the voice of his father.  
  
She tried to back away, to stand up, but Severus had grabbed her, pulling her roughly to her feet and backhanding her, holding her upright. She tried to fight him, to push him away, begging him to stop, but he just hit her again, sending her into the wall.  
  
"Severus, fight it!" she screamed, waving her hand and sending his father to the floor. Severus's face cleared momentarily and he stared at Hermione, at her holding the back of her hand to her lip and her other hand outstretched towards him, telling him to stay back.  
  
He wanted to. The thought of how he was hurting him was enough to make him physically ill, but he felt weak and uncertain, the way his father had made him feel for the first six years of his life.  
  
"You're weak, Severus," he was saying now, just as he had said back then. "She's just a worthless little Mudblood! Meaningless! A black spot in the sea of humanity!"  
  
"No, she's not!" Severus finally shouted, pointing his wand at his father.  
  
"What're you gonna do? Pretend to be a man and try to kill me? You can't do it. You're _weak_, Severus. I would've thought you'd understand that by now."  
  
A jet of red light shot from Severus's wand and his father flew back, slamming into the floor hard. He didn't move.  
  
Severus rushed to Hermione and had almost reached her when he fell back, staggering away from Hermione instead of towards her.  
  
"You didn't really think I'd go down that easy, did you?"  
  
Severus looked at his father. "If I'm such a disappointment to you, then why don't you just kill me right now? Leave Hermione out of this, but kill me now."  
  
"Oh, but she's such an integral part."  
  
And Severus was under his father's control again. He was moving to the display of knives on the wall opposite Hermione. He selected the one with the longest blade and turned, facing Hermione, but not really seeing her. He heard his father's voice: "Kill her, Severus. Kill her now!"  
  
And Severus strode purposefully toward Hermione, who was being held in place by his father.  
  
And as he pulled the knife back and set it in motion, the spell was lifted, and Severus saw the fear in Hermione's eyes, and he felt the knife in his hand, but he couldn't quite comprehend the situation until the knife met its destination, sliding deep into Hermione's stomach. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back into the wall, her hands finding the knife handle and grasping it, as though she didn't believe it was real.  
  
Severus's eyes widened as well as the realization and the gravity of what he'd done hit him.  
  
His father was saying something, but Severus was no longer listening. Instead he turned, pulling out his wand and pointing it at his father, gripping it tightly.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" he cried. His father went from living to dead in the time it took Severus to blink and he rushed to Hermione, who had slid to a seated position on the floor.  
  
"Oh, God, Hermione," he said, his hands shaking as he dropped to his knees beside her.  
  
"Guess Lavender was right," she said, coughing slightly. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and Severus shook his head.  
  
"No... God, Hermione. Don't die on me, please," Severus whispered, waving his hand at the wall behind him. A fire burst to life in the fireplace previously half hidden in shadow, and Severus summoned a can of Floo Powder into the room, tipping some into the flames and yelling Dumbledore's name.  
  
"Dumbledore will come. Just hold on."  
  
"I'm trying," Hermione whispered. "I guess Dumbledore was right, too."  
  
"About what."  
  
"My bookmark. 'Love through pain. Forgiveness through betrayal.'" She coughed again and tried to smile. "I love you."  
  
"Tell me that again later, okay? Please, hold on. He'll be here soon."  
  
Severus yelled Dumbledore's name again and looked back at Hermione. Her eyes were half closed and her breathing was shallow.  
  
"Hermione, don't close your eyes. Stay with me. I need you, I love you, God, how I love you, don't close your eyes. Hermione, can you hear me? Don't... don't close your eyes." 


	10. In the end

Severus sat on the neatly made bed, staring at the wall in front of him, and thinking about the fact that he'd never hated this room, the way Hermione had redone it. Kind of like the way he'd never hated Hermione, never even disliked her. If it could be said, he'd loved her, at least her mind, from the first time she'd set her brilliance on him in class.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
Severus looked up at Albus Dumbledore, standing in the doorway, and then back down at his hands.  
  
"Did they take her?" he asked quietly, rubbing at the dried blood on his hands.  
  
"Yes, they took her." Albus stepped into the room. "I think you should come with me, Severus."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't think it's safe for you to be alone."  
  
"What does it matter? Nothing matters anymore."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"What do you mean, that's not true?" Severus looked up at Dumbledore. "Everyone I've _ever_ cared about has _died_ in front of my eyes. And I couldn't do a _damn_ thing about it. I killed..." Severus trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.  
  
"You're not responsible for her death, Severus."  
  
"Not responsible?" Severus cried, getting to his feet. "I took the knife and I... I _drove it into her_! I stabbed her, and I killed her! I killed the only woman that I have _ever_ loved, the only woman who ever loved me."  
  
"You may've held the knife, but you didn't kill her. Your father did." Albus's voice held more emotion than Severus had ever witnessed from the older man, but at the moment Severus didn't much care.  
  
"He lifted the curse before I stabbed her."  
  
"He's still responsible for her death."  
  
"I don't care what kind of spin you put on it. I _killed_ her," Severus shouted. "And if all you're going to do is stand there and tell me that I'm not responsible and that it's not my fault, then you can leave, because nothing you say will make me feel any less like... God, I can't even _begin_ to describe how I feel right now." He held up his hands, showing them to Albus, shaking them, begging him to see. "This is her blood, as she died in my arms. She bled to death while you took your time to answer my call."  
  
Albus nodded gravely. "Yes. I am also at fault here."  
  
"How can you be so _calm_?" Severus cried. "You act like you're _God_, standing there and showing no emotion, as though this death were just another meaningless demise in the grand scheme of life. Show some real emotion, for once in your life!"  
  
"I do care, Severus," Albus said, his voice cracking, his eyes bright. "I care a great deal. But my concern lies with you now."  
  
"I don't need you to care about me," Severus spat. "The only person to care for me is _dead_. All because I am too pathetic and too God damn _weak_ to stand up to my own father."  
  
"He made you that way, Severus. From the moment you were born, he belittled you and made you feel inferior. But your mother tried to make you see that you weren't. However, she was only one person," Albus added softly. "Had it not been for her, though, you would never have been able to love Hermione at all."  
  
"And now Hermione is dead," Severus whispered, and stopped short as it finally hit him. "Oh, God... she's really gone."  
  
Severus stumbled back onto the bed and for first time since his mother died, he began to cry.

The funeral was the following Sunday, and the turnout was enormous. It seemed as though everyone Hermione had ever met was in attendence. The entire Weasley family sat, as somber as Severus had ever seen them, off to the right, taking up an entire pew in the church. Lavender and Harry were with them as well, beside Ron and Ginny, respectively. Ron himself looked very pale, his eyes red rimmed, looking as though he hadn't slept for days. Harry didn't look much better as he comforted Ginny.  
  
There were classmates, teachers, Ministry workers, and friends, all packed inside the church, and none with a dry eye as Albus finished the eulogy. Severus couldn't bring himself to speak, not even as Hermione's mentor, as Albus had suggested.  
  
He hadn't wanted to come, but that would've been incredibly selfish and he couldn't bear the thought of not seeing her once last time.  
  
As he passed by the open casket before it was taken to the cemetary, he stopped and looked at her, lying amid white satin, dressed in a simple white dress, picked out by Jane Getty. _Oh, God_, Severus thought, _she looks like an angel_.  
  
He reached down and gently touched her cheek, her lips, her hair. He then reached in his pocket and pulled out an antique diamond ring.  
  
"This was my mother's," he whispered. "I was going to give it you. I was going to ask you-" Severus stopped, his throat unbearably tight, tears filling his eyes. He laid the ring underneath her hands and kissed his fingers, gently pressing them to Hermione's cheek. And then he moved on.Ron Weasley resigned from his position at Hogwarts that summer before term began, and after two years of living with severe depression, ended his own life.Harry Potter remained at Hogwarts, if only to occupy his time to keep him from thinking of Hermione and, soon after, Ron.Severus Snape continued to teach at Hogwarts for ten years after Hermione's death until one summer he checked himself into St. Mungo's, in the long-term psychiatric ward. His only visitor was Albus Dumbledore until the older man died, seven years after Severus's self exile. After that, the only visitor Severus had was Hermione, dominating his dreams and his nightmares every night until he himself passed at age 85, having loved and mourned one woman for 40 years.  
  
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A/N: If it makes anyone feel better about this ending, I personally feel like crap for ending it this way, but it's the way it was in my head, and I didn't see fit to change it... and just so you know, I nearly cried as I wrote this and typed it up... so yeah... tissues, anyone? 


End file.
